Majestic
by TheeStoryTeller
Summary: After the murder of his wife, Draco Malfoy has decided to take the law into his own hands. Being a vigilante with a few magic touches may be easy, but he isn't the only one out there with new tricks. Post-Hogwarts.
1. The Beginning

Chapter 1: The Beginning

It only takes one bad day. One moment in time that erases all of your morals. All of your values. And turns you into something unrecognizable. There is an anger that spreads through you, like poison. And though a million things are running through your head—you still have to decide what to do with that anger. And you must do it before the darkness takes over. Or your life no longer belongs to you.

All it takes is one bad day.

* * *

 _Four years ago…_

I come to. For a moment, everything is dark and blurry—but I can tell I am somewhere unfamiliar. There is a small flickering light above, only allowing me to see so much. I try to move my hands, and it is then I realize that my hands are chained together. I notice that my feet are barely touching the ground, I feel the aching in my arms. I've been here for some time.

My eyesight finally focuses, and from the sight in front of me—I remember exactly how I got here. An anger—a monstrous, untamed anger is ignited. I can feel it burning under my skin.

"Astoria!" I scream, but she doesn't answer. She sits in the chair across from where I am standing. I can't see her face, only her ragged blonde hair which shades her. Her red dress is torn in several places—I can see the purple stain of bruises on her skin. What did they do to her while I was unconscious?

"ASTORIA!" I scream again, this time louder. I can feel the room vibrate at the sound of my voice. I try to break the chains holding me back from her, but they are stronger than I am. I pull again, but they do not budge. But in this moment, I won't deny that I am helpless.

The next sound I hear is the voice of man. A man whose very existence brings nothing but plague and utter dismay. A man I once saw as a friend, but now he means nothing to me. He is dead to me. Yet the sound of his voice is as real as it's always been. The ghost who has come to haunt me.

Theodore Nott.

"Draco, Draco." He teases, stepping into the room as if he is Salazar himself. He is brave enough to walk in alone because I am chained to his wall. He knows if I get free I will kill him. But I can't get free. He's going to kill me.

"I wouldn't worry about her." He continues. "I would be more worried about you." He then proceeds to walk towards her, running his fingers through her hair. I immediately react, forgetting that I'm chained up.

" _Don't touch her!"_ The sound of the chains echo through the room—making the moment sweeter for this man I hated. I watch him pull out his wand—thirteen inch, black walnut, dragon heartstring. He walks towards me, a childish glint in his eyes. He's been waiting for this moment.

"I told you what would happen, Malfoy." He says. "If you continued to interfere with my work. Potter, out of all people, got the message. But you…you just couldn't mind your fucking business."

The next sound was my agonizing screams. Nott cast the cruciatus curse—my skin felt like fire, I felt like a million needles were being rammed through my bones. My legs grew weak, but I couldn't fall. As much as I wanted to fight back, I couldn't. But even when the curse subsided, I still denied the fact that I was losing.

"So what is this? A temper tantrum, Nott?" I retort. I hoped that my words would anger him more, get him off his game. But he doesn't react, he only smiles wider.

"Even when you're at your losses, you still have to have the last word." He chuckles. "And that—is what makes this moment even greater than what it is."

The tip of his wand glowed a deadly green. I knew that this was the end. He was going to kill me. There was so much I wanted to say. To Nott. To Astoria. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for dragging her into this. I wanted to tell her to be strong when I'm gone. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. That I was fine leaving this world knowing that she had loved me for who I was. But she would never know.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the curse to strike. But as I heard the words leave his mouth, I still felt my heart beating with regret and fear. It all felt as real as if I was still alive. The weight of the world still weighed on my shoulders. And that's when I realized. I hadn't closed my eyes at all.

"NOOOOOOO!" I roared. There she sat, motionless. "ASTORIA! ASTORIAAAA!" But I know she won't answer me.

This time I can't feel my legs. My heart hurts—and it continues to shatter as I stare. He was supposed to kill me. I thought he was going to kill me. The tears burn my skin, but I cannot stop them. The anger in me boils to a new level. I cannot run to her. I cannot hold her for the last time. Here I am, chained to this wall—trapped in this room, with my dead wife.

"THEODORE!" I scream. "THEODORE!"

But he is gone. And so is she.

* * *

 _Present Day._

 **Masked Vigilante Strikes Again: Ollivander's Saved**

Seamus Finnegan throws today's Prophet on my desk. He's grown fascinated with the so called "vigilante" and I seem to be the only one in the department who holds his same interest. We've been at it for the past couple years—ever since the vigilante made his first appearance in Diagon Alley. He saved Seamus during a hostage situation—I was knocked out cold in the lobby of Gringotts and had to hear the exciting story afterwards.

"Ollivander said it happened so quick," He says excitedly. "He forgot he was being robbed."

I picked up the prophet, skimming the contents. "He says they were trying to steal blueprints? Why not take the wands themselves?"

Seamus shrugs. "I dunno. But word is it's the same people who tried to pull a fast one on Grigorovitch."

"So they're going after wand makers?" I say, confused. "What benefit would they have doing that when could they could just force Ollivander or Gregorovitch to make them one?"

"Same question the boss asked."

I continue to read the paper, but something tells me to look up. And as I do, that something has my eyes locked on her. Hermione Granger. One of the top specialists for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. As usual, she walks with a sense of purpose—her hands full of file folders and loose sheets of parchment. And as usual, she doesn't notice me staring at her.

"She just broke things off with Weasley," I hear Seamus say. "This would be a perfect time—"

"No." I respond immediately. "I'm not…she needs her space."

"Oh, come on Draco. I've watched you miserably fancy her since forever, even more since she's moved to our floor. This is your chance."

I thought about it, and Seamus was right. This is the perfect time. But fate had other plans.

"Malfoy! Finnegan!" The words came from our boss. The head of the Auror Department. Harry Potter. There were years where I hated him, truly hated him. But after what happened with Astoria, we made amends. He was the only one who was there for me.

He opened the door to his office. "In here."

Seamus and I make our way towards Potter's office. It's an office I've been in many times—for multiple reasons. I wasn't always the best Auror in the department—I've had my set of mishaps. And when I became partners with Seamus, it got even worse. We weren't always the best of pals. I've broken his nose a few times—more than I care to remember.

We sat down in the chairs across from him, and I could tell that Potter had his hands full with something. His desk was covered in papers and crumbled up memos. If I had to guess, it had something to do with the Wand Shop robberies. No one knew exactly how to handle it. There hadn't been an attack on Ollivander's since the second wizarding war—ten years ago.

"You seem to have your work cut out for you, eh Potter?" says Seamus.

Harry shakes his head, and I can tell he's tired. "More than I can admit. There's too much going on at one time. The attacks on the wand shops, the random genetically engineered creatures that are popping up, and this _damn vigilante._ "

 _So, that's why Granger is so busy._ I think to myself. That's probably the reason Kingsley had her moved to our floor. The Minister probably thought these incidents were all connected.

"Is that why Granger's moved to our floor?" I ask. "The Minister thinks these events are all connected?"

" _I_ moved Hermione down to our floor." Responds Harry. "Kingsley doesn't think the events are connected, but I have a…feeling that they are."

Seamus crosses his legs. "What sparked that feeling?"

At Seamus's question, I notice Harry's face transforms into a frown. Something deeper and darker than a frown. A nauseating feeling rises in my stomach—he is staring right at me. He's trying not to, but I don't think he can help it. I think all of this has something to do with me.

Harry pulls out a portfolio from out of the stack of parchment on his desk. That feeling a nausea hardens into a rock—I know that portfolio. It belongs to Theodore Nott—the man who killed my wife.

"A couple days ago, the guards at Azkaban discovered that Nott has been sending outside messages through an unknown source. The last message he sent out occurred on the same night Gregorovitch was attacked."

"And you think he has something to do with it?" Seamus asks.

The other wizard sighs. "I don't know what to think. Nott's been in Azkaban for the last four years—and I just can't help but think…"

I know what he's thinking. After he murdered Astoria, we caught Theodore Nott. Well, Harry and group of Aurors did. I wasn't allowed to join the party—for Nott's sake. I would've killed him. Even now, I still dream of walking into Azkaban and ending him. But those four years ago, after we caught Nott, the Vigilante appeared.

"You think his unknown source is the Vigilante?" I ask. As outrageous as it sounds, it's Potter's job to think of the outrageous. After everything he's been through, no feeling is a bad feeling. And no crazy idea is actually crazy. We live in a world where people use wands to fight instead of fists.

Seamus scoffs. Like I said, he is a hardcore Vigilante fan. "There's no way the Vigilante is working with Theodore Nott. He _saved_ Gregorovitch."

"Because maybe Nott wanted him to," I respond, feeding into Harry's suspicions. "Gregorovitch used to make wands for Nott's grandfather—who would then pass those wands down to his sons, who would pass it down to theirs."

"So what? Nott got word that some blokes were going to attack Gregorovitch and he sends the Vigilante? That's barmy."

"Nothing is barmy, Finnegan." Harry says. "But this is a start—"

"Nott's a criminal!" Seamus argues.

I cross my arms. "So is the Vigilante."

"Draco, you can't honestly believe—"

"He assaulted an Auror last week, Seamus. Almost killed him." I sound more disappointed than serious. As if the Vigilante's actions are my actions. "He has no regard for magical law enforcement, and that makes him no better than Nott or anyone else we've put in Azkaban."

I look at Seamus, and he gives me a cryptic look. He wants to chew a new hole in my you-no-where, but he stays silent. He knows there is always a method to my madness—even if he hates it. But nonetheless, he doesn't argue back.

"Malfoy's right." Harry says, flipping through another stack of parchment. "I can't deny, Seamus, that the Vigilante is doing some good—but he's operating as if he's judge, jury, and executioner. That's what the Ministry is for."

I nod, agreeing and disagreeing at the same time. During my years at Hogwarts, my father worked at the Ministry. Though everyone believed the Ministry was doing the best for the wizarding community, everyone had their own agenda. Everyone—no matter their position—played judge, jury, and executioner. Just like the Ministry, the Vigilante has his own agenda. The Vigilante does the things Potter can't—goes to places that we can't. I can tell that Potter supports his actions, but he has to follow the rules—something he hasn't done in a long time.

"Okay," Seamus finally let go of his Vigilante rant. "What do you need us for?"

Harry looks up from his parchment. "I want you two on this case—working with Hermione. Kingsley won't let me open a full investigation, but that doesn't mean I can't already have my foot in the door."

I smirk. I guess it would be against Potter's nature if he didn't at least break one rule. "And you need us to be your keys?"

Potter chuckles. "More like crowbars."

* * *

I leave work late. I gather as much information as I can about the Vigilante and what is known about Nott's outside source. The parchment that the guards found was blank—meaning that it was an encrypted message. I know what will happen if I share this information with Potter. He'll think it's enchanted, like Voldemort's diary. Or he might think it unlocks with some special phrase like the Marauder's Map. Though they would be possibilities, Nott isn't that simple—he uses his magic in different ways. I should know.

"Leaving late as well?"

I look up from my files and it feels like the world has gone dark and a light has lit on the just the two of us. I shake my head and the light comes back on. But she is still standing there, her eyebrow furrowed—her arms full of books and parchment. I get a grip on myself. It's 9:45pm—I'm late.

"Yeah," I say, gathering up my files as well. "I'm actually supposed to meeting Seamus at the Manor."

I get up to leave, and like I expected—she follows me. Not that I mind, this is the first time we've spoken since Astoria—and I guess her first time since what happened with Weasley. I'm curious to ask, but I won't.

"To work on the case?" She asks, curious as well.

"Uh no." _Yes._ I lie. It should have felt natural, but it felt so wrong. To lie to her, but I'm already late and there are too many questions that I don't have answers to.

"Seamus bought some Muggle Picture Box in London, we're supposed to be enchanting it to watch the Quidditch game tonight." I smirk. "Don't worry, Granger, it isn't against the law."

I catch her smile, and I hate myself for not staying to talk more. I hate myself for not sparking any other interesting conversations- something that would lead to me asking her to dinner. Or inviting her over to work on the case. But I made a promise to someone—and I don't want to hurt her.

"Catch you tomorrow, yeah?" I finally say.

She smirks. "You know where to find me."

Where did Hermione Granger go after that? I didn't stick around to check. I headed towards the floo, where I pick my destination. Malfoy Manor. I can already feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins—as if this is the first time. I take a deep breath, remembering my past mistakes and focusing on tonight's mission.

As the green flames disappear, Seamus is waiting for me down in the dungeons. I take no time to look around the Manor, it hasn't been the same in a while. It's empty and lifeless—I never walk around it anymore. I stay hidden in the dungeons, where I am literally imprisoned by my thoughts and regrets. It is to remind me of my promise.

I reach the final steps and I can see the glow from Muggle television I bought from that pawn shop in Surrey. Yes, I lied to Granger about the television, but what good would have came out of it if I told her the truth? Seamus is half-blood, so making him the accused buyer made it all more practical for her to believe.

"Is it up?" I ask, stepping into the dungeons. For a moment, I stop and stare at the room. It isn't the cold and miserable dungeon it used to be—I've changed some things since my parents moved to Paris and left me the estate. For starters, I got rid of all the dungeons. It gave me more room for my other hobbies. And it gave Seamus the perfect idea to expand his office space.

"Almost." My partner replies. He flicks his wand and the television glows a bright blue. And then goes black, and then pops back on. Another flick, and the one television turns into four. What I am looking at now, is unbelievable.

"It's the whole map of-"

"Diagon Alley." I say through my admiration. What I am looking at now, is complete surveillance on every shop, pub, and street in Diagon Alley. This is a huge upgrade from the enchanted maps me and Seamus used to use. Muggle technology finally has its breakthrough in the wizarding world.

"And that's not all." Seamus says. "Watch this. _Show me Gringotts Bank, Main Lobby."_

Like a switch being flicked, the televisions switch to Gringotts's main lobby. I pat Seamus on his back—my way of commending him of his work. He takes his usual position in his chair, admiring his new setup, while I begin to get dressed. That is when Seamus begins our next conversation.

"So, are you going to tell me why you made the Vigilante seem like the anti-Christ in Potter's office?"

I pull on my boots. "You know why, Seamus. Potter needs to think we're like everyone else."

"Yeah," He says, but I know my answer doesn't satisfy him. "But really? _He has no regard for magical law enforcement…he's no better than Nott…_ blah blah blah."

"You remember what happened last week? The Vigilante almost became enemy number one."

Seamus rolls his eyes. "It was one Auror, Draco. And it was Finch-Fletchley. He deserved it."

"No, he didn't." I tighten my gloves and conjure my hair black. "The Vigilante isn't supposed to be a menace, but we can't ignore his faults. He has to be better."

"What happened to stopping petty thefts and raiding Death Eater hideouts? I miss those days."

I laugh. "Those days ended a long time ago." I grabbed my final piece, placing it over my head. The only thing you can see now are my eyes. And even if my mask is removed, I made my hair black—remember?

Seamus hands me my "other" wand. "Our source from the bank says that the Nott's family vault is number 7618."

"Which is the deepest part of the bank," I nod. "And the most heavily guarded."

"I'll be watching from the screens, but once you get inside the vault—you're on your own."

I smirk, accepting the challenge. Whatever it took to keep Nott behind bars and to stop whatever this was from becoming something worse. Right now, I am now longer Draco Malfoy, a Class A Auror for the Ministry of Magic. I am something else.

"Nothing the Vigilante can't handle."

I step back into the floo, focusing all of my energy on the picture of Gringotts's Main Lobby. Before I disappear in the crowd of blue and red flames I hear Seamus's next words.

"And don't kill anyone!"

 **Hello Everyone. No, I have not abandoned Taken—I'm just taking time off to work up some new ideas. Taken Book 3 will continue shortly. But for now, enjoy!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	2. Deeper

Chapter 2: Deeper

Now when the anger hits, you have to decide whether to become one with the darkness living inside of you, or to let it take over. A part of you feels so weak, that it feels best to let the darkness take over. To give you some place to hide. I wanted to kill Nott. I wanted to rip him apart for what he had done to me. It would have been so easy.

It would have been so easy to let the darkness take over.

* * *

 _Four years ago._

I watch them drag Theodore Nott out of that abandoned warehouse, and my hand immediately reaches for my wand. I have only one spell in mind, and the will of a thousand soldiers to do it. I could end him, right here. I didn't care about the consequences—I was already suffering the worst sentence in my life. My wife was dead and the man who murdered her was being dragged—dragged _alive_ —out of the building she was murdered in. I stood up, and I felt my legs taking me towards Nott. I'm not sure if I was consciously aware of it, but I knew I couldn't stop. A part of me didn't want to. So I let the darkness—that hatred, that anger—I let it take control.

I'm so close—I can smell the stench of whiskey and death on him. But then there is another smell…honey and lavender. The smell stops me from going any further. I knew that smell, and it gave me a newfound hope. I turned, and it quickly goes away, but it gives the Aurors enough time to drag Nott out of my sight. I watch as another set of wizards levitate my wife's body out of the warehouse. My eyes are frozen on her And that is when I gained control of my body, and made my way towards her, instead. By this point, I had forgotten about Nott, and my will to kill him. I had forgotten that my body ached like somebody dropped it off a building. My only concern was her.

Isn't that crazy? She's dead, and I still worry about her.

As I get closer, the men carrying her body try to stop me.

"Sorry, sir," One of them says, "But we can't let you near the body." He's just doing his job.

But the next voice I hear surprises me. "That's his wife," The voice comes from Harry Potter. He was standing right beside me and I didn't even realize. Had he been there the whole time?

"That's his wife…he deserves to be with her."

He nods to me before walking away—I don't respond to the gesture. I just need to get to her. I follow the men who are levitating her body, and we finally stop at a black automobile, whose back seat is expanded to hold situations such as this. They set her body down on a stretcher, and two men sit on either side of her. Without invitation, I climb in—they don't say anything to me. I don't say anything to them.

I imagine that it is only me and her in the back of this automobile. And because of that, I take her hand, squeezing it tightly—knowing that she won't squeeze back. And then they fall again, the tears. And then everything else comes back—the anger, the rage. And now I want to kill Nott again. I want to tell the driver or whoever is controlling this thing to stop and let me out. So I can walk back to the warehouse and kill him.

"I know how you feel kid," I hear one of the men say. I look at him—he's an older man. A nice head of gray hair on his head and a beard. I can see the pain in his eyes as he watches me. I believe him.

"Nott murdered my daughter a few months back." He continued. "I felt that rage you were feeling. I wanted to kill him…wanted to make him suffer. But that would make me no better than him."

I know why he's telling me this. He wants me to focus on Astoria and not get lost in my anger. To forget what Nott has done and move forward with my life. To take what the muggles say is "the high road." But then I realize that wasn't his motive at all.

"Potter's great and all, but Nott's taken too many people. If the Aurors won't do it, _we_ have to do better. For our families—our communities."

 _We have to do better._ Is what he said. I understood.

"Yes," I respond, stilling holding on to my wife. "we do."

* * *

 _Present Day._

The blue and red flames disappear and I find myself in the middle of Gringotts's main lobby. The blue and red flames were my creation—something I put together from Snape's spell books. Transportation by floo can only be done in floo network stations, and also require the use of green flames that respond to a spoken destination. These flames, however, require a mental picture of the destination, as if I am apparating. But apparition is messy and loud—so this approach is more subtle and untraceable. There are no floo network stations inside Gringotts—or anywhere else I go.

I walk slowly and carefully—listening and watching for anything suspicious or hostile. The last time I was in Gringotts, I was unknowingly welcomed by a group of Aurors, Seamus included. That was the night I saved his life and the night I revealed to him my true identity.

"See anything?" I whisper.

"Nope." I hear Seamus respond. Before I left, I casted a spell that makes us able to communicate telepathically. Sometimes he can be an irritating bloke, but he has his helpful moments.

"There's a backdoor behind the head goblin's desk—just transfigure the glove into a goblin hand and run it down the middle. It should open."

I make my way towards the desk. As I come closer, I can already tell that the door is too small for me to fit through, but I know trying to take the main tunnel will get me caught before I even reach the third floor. I refrain from touching anything—I've had my run in with goblins. They're sneaky and conniving and they don't like others (especially wizards) touching their stuff. Which is why I have to transfigure my hand into a goblin hand.

" _Transfigure."_ I cast my next spell. I watch as my glove takes the form of a goblin hand. It doesn't hurt like Polyjuice potion would, but it does sting a bit. The transformation is done quickly so I can continue my mission. I have to be done before dawn.

Using my now goblin-transfigured hand, I run my index finger down the middle of the desk, where Seamus says the backdoor is hidden. I hear the sound of gears winding and then a click. A gold sliver traces the outline of the door and then the wooden material of the desk fades away, revealing a poorly lit tunnel.

"The tunnel leads to the bottom floor." Seamus answers the question I want to ask. "But you'll be on the other end of the vaults. You'll have to sneak to the seven thousands—and you're in luck. They've increased security."

I step into the tunnel, preparing to be cramped and uncomfortable, but the tunnel expands to my body shape. Goblin magic.

"Potter's doing, no doubt." I respond. The tunnel is quiet and eerie—it is nowhere near exciting as the train carts that normal customers ride to get to their vaults. For one, you have to walk—and I have to walk all the way to the bottom floor. Second, there was nothing to look at, only dim, broken lights and stone walls. But I will admit, this is a better scenery for the Vigilante than Draco Malfoy.

"You think Potter is after the same thing?" Seamus says after a while. It was nice to hear his voice again—it's too quiet down here.

I shake my head, though I know Seamus isn't able to see it. "No. No one knows about it except the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Honestly, I don't even know myself if it's still in there."

"Well if it's not, then we'll know why Nott's stealing wand blueprints."

I don't respond, but it's only because I've reached the end of the tunnel. I can see the dim light of the lower level caves. A cold wind blows through the tunnel and I take my time exiting. I can't see what's on the other side—exposing myself now would jeopardize the mission.

"Seamus." I say urgently.

"Two guards to your right. Three more standing in the middle of the cave, along with four guarding the Nott's vault."

Nine guards versus one vigilante. Nothing I haven't faced before, but why all the security? Especially around Nott's vault. Maybe Harry thinks he's withdrawing money through his source—or maybe it's something else.

I whip around the corner, facing the first two guards. They don't see me—and they won't. I creep behind them, preparing my next move. I pull out my wand.

" _Imperio."_ I say softly and I watch as the spell takes effect. The guards now seemed relaxed, but I know they are trying to fight for control. They won't win, however.

"Take me to vault 7618." I say, pulling off my mask. "And I want you to take me as a prisoner. Seamus make contact."

"Roger that."

I know the connection is made once the two guards grab me by my arms. I pretend to be captured, letting them drag me across the cave to the other side of the vaults. We make it to the middle, where the other three guards are waiting. The next move is made by Seamus.

"Look who we found," I hear him say, but the words are also spoken from the first guard. "It's the Vigilante."

One of the three middle guards eyes me. He won't make me—but I guess it doesn't hurt to try. Finally, he scoffs. He doesn't believe them.

"The hell it is. There's no bloody way you two caught the Vigilante."

Seamus speaks again, and the second guard holding me speaks. "I'm telling you it is. We can prove it."

I try not to laugh. My partner is toying with them, but the real mission is to stall. Only until the other guards—the ones guarding the vault—notices the commotion and makes their way over here. And that's where the fun will begin.

"There's nothing to prove!" Another middle guard argues. "If that was the Vigilante, he'd be standing here, ready to kick our asses! And you two would already be knocked cold!"

"Bullshit." Says the first guard, he drops my arm. While they continue their argument, I reach for my wand. I noticed we've finally gotten the attention of the other four guards.

 _Keep them talking Seamus._ I think to myself.

The first guard continues to rage on. "We just took down the Vigilante. Had it been any of you three, you'd be halfway to St. Mungos by now."

"What's going on here?" It's showtime. A gruff voice interrupts the guards banter. The four other guards have reached the middle of the cave. The leader of the troop speaks, waiting for an explanation of why the other two aren't at their post by the secret entrance.

"We caught the Vigilante," The second guard says. "We were on our way to bring him to you, but these assholes wouldn't let us through."

The other guard scoffs. "Cause that isn't the Vigilante. He doesn't even have on his mask."

One of the heavy-duty guards speaks next. "It's true. He does wear a mask."

The head guard walks towards me. He wants to decide for himself whether I am the Vigilante or not. And as he walks closer, the rest of his troop closes in on me. They don't know that this is exactly what I want them to do.

The head guard squats in front of me, examining my every being. If they didn't know what I was up to, they knew now. This guy is smart—or maybe I just wanted to start the show already. I smirk, letting him see my wand. The Vigilante's wand.

His eyes grow bigger. "You fucking idiots!" But it's too late.

I stupefy him into the cave wall, knocking him unconscious. The two cursed guards do the same to rest. They can't do much, seeing as Seamus has to control them both—but I don't need them to. The ambush takes no longer than three minutes. All the guards are down.

"Tie them up." I order. "Then tie yourselves up." I walk away, listening to the sounds of the guards' bodies scraping against the cave floor. Right now there is only one thing on my mind, vault 7618.

"How's my time, Seamus?" I ask.

"You got twenty minutes. The first wave of goblins will be appearing the Diagon Alley then."

 _Enough Time._ I quickly transfigure my glove into the goblin hand, tracing the claw down the middle of the vault door. Once again, I hear the sounds of gears turning and locks clicking open. Another second and the vault is open—I'm inside.

I have twenty minutes to find—or not find—what I came here for. And I don't have Seamus to help me. Luckily for me, the Nott's were a neat lot of people. Everything inside the vault is organized and neatly shelved—allowing me to complete my mission in under five minutes. I make my way to a rack of old wands. I recognize a few of them—Nott's wand from Hogwarts, as well as his mother's and his uncle's. But these aren't the ones I'm looking for.

My mission was to find the wand of Manchester Nott, Theodore's grandfather. Based on the hierarchy of the wands, his should reside at the top. But, and not surprisingly, it isn't there, confirming my suspicions.

"It isn't here, Seamus."

"Then, it's true." My partner responds. "Nott's father did get rid of it. And now Nott wants to make another one just like it."

"Or better." I say, but I don't say anything else. There is something else in this vault that catches my attention. A box of blank parchment—folded blank parchment. They are worn out and look as if they have been folded and unfolded many times. Something in my gut tells me this is the same material that was found in Nott's cell in Azkaban. If it is, then maybe I can find a way to decrypt it. Then I can find out who Nott is contacting on the outside. I take a one of the folded pieces of parchment and shove it in my pocket. I proceed to leave the vault—mission complete.

"Ten minutes, pal."

The door to the vault closes and locks behind me. I walk towards the middle of the cave, where I find all nine of the guards tied up. I return my mask to my face and walk closer. The other seven are still unconscious while the two cursed ones are just sitting there, staring into space, as if they have nothing else to live for. I know the feeling.

"Break the connection, Seamus." I say, and I can see the life return to the two guards. They immediately spot me, but I don't care. There's nothing they can do at this point.

"OI! It's the Vigilante!" The first one screams. He tries to free himself from his confinement, but he fails. I don't have much time left, but I need to say something before I go.

"Tell Potter that the Wand of Nott has been destroyed." After that, I disappear in the blue and red flames, no doubt leaving the two guards confused. But I know that they will deliver the message to Harry—he'll want to know how nine of his best guards ended up tied together at the lower level of Gringotts.

* * *

I spend the next day in Hermione Granger's office—me and Seamus both. As planned, Potter received the news about the Wand of Nott and Hermione seemed to have found some new information on the genetically engineered creatures. Seeing as me nor Seamus knew anything about the creatures, we let Hermione state her evidence first.

"Here's what we know," She begins. "The creatures are being stolen from Romania and taken to an unknown location south of Bulgaria. Here's what's new- three months later, a Hippogriff-Norwegian Ridgeback Hybrid is spotted in Russia."

Seamus takes a bite of his lunch—Lo Mein and mixed vegetables. A meal he and Hermione call "Chinese Food." I've tried it before—not a big fan.

"So they're going from Romania to Bulgaria then to Russia? That's a lot of movement to not get caught."

"What if there are only two stops?" I ask, pointing to the map Hermione has pinned on the wall. "Russia is a long way from Bulgaria. A long way to be sneaking a Hippogriff-Dragon hybrid around."

Hermione bites her lip. "You think they're letting the hybrids loose after the experiments?"

"Seems likely," I respond. "But then that doesn't explain why the creatures haven't caused a world crisis. A creature that size and with that kind of power—"

Seamus nods. "It should've burned Russia down to its core."

"Maybe someone is controlling them." Hermione suggests. "Maybe the locations of the creatures aren't random. Maybe someone is putting them in place—and just waiting for the order."

I want to smile, but I don't want to ruin her moment. She's having a revelation and I love every bit of it. Though I already had that idea running in my head, I was sure Hermione would figure it out as well. If I didn't have feelings for her, I would ask her to join the team. Another quick mind would be a nice addition. I can think fast—but fighting and thinking about the next move doesn't always mix.

"Okay," Seamus says. "If somebody is strategically putting these creatures in certain areas, what's their motive? A better question: What does this have to do with the wand shop robberies?"

I open my mouth to answer, but there is a knock on the door. We all divert out attention to the doorway where Harry is standing. He wears a satisfied expression—an expression I've seen when he's figured something out. Surely, this didn't have anything to do with the Wand of Nott—that information was still a mystery to me.

"Good news, boss?" Seamus asks, taking another bite of his lunch.

Potter closes the door behind him, locking it as he steps deeper inside the room. My stomach ties itself in knots while watching Harry do this. Something doesn't feel right.

"Actually, yes," Harry says calmly. "A part of this frustrating mystery may be solved."

"How?" Hermione asks, furrowing her brow. I wait for Potter to answer—I have the same question, and the feeling inside of me grows worse.

"It's the Vigilante," he answers. "I know who he is."

The room grows silent and Seamus stops midway as he shoves another forkful of noodles in his mouth. A rock drops inside of my stomach. This can't be possible.

"Oh shit."

 **Author's Note: You all know how this goes. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	3. Deserving

**Warning: Contains small mentions of suicide. If you are not comfortable reading the content, please skip the Flashback section. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3: Deserving

There comes a time, where you feel like you don't belong on this earth anymore. Why would you? Everything you ever loved is gone—what else is there to live for? You feel like you're drowning, but you won't cry for help. You won't make the effort to swim back up. There is no point. There is no brighter light—no better day. So you drown. And drown. And drown.

Until you are no more.

* * *

 _Then._

A few days later, I am sitting in the courtroom at the Ministry of Magic, awaiting the start of Theodore Nott's trial. A part of me still wants to hurt him—to watch the light leave his eyes as I watched it leave Astoria's- but I don't have the energy for it anymore. I buried my wife yesterday, and she took the last bit of my humanity—and happiness- with her. I feel like a needle in a haystack. The elephant in the room. I can hear everyone whispering around me. Several people walk up to me and ask me am I okay. I ask them all the same question.

Would you be okay? No answer.

The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebot, steps up to the podium, announcing that the trail is now in session. The doors to the far side of the courtroom open, and two Azkaban guards escort a grinning Theodore Nott to the center of the room. He is wearing the black and white jumpsuit of Azkaban and his hands and feet are chained together. But even as he appears, claiming the title as a "lesser man"—I feel like the one who has reached an all time low.

In all honesty, Nott won. He took everything away from me. And he's not even dead. My wife is dead and he gets to stand—stand _alive_ —in front of the Wizengamot to await trial. He will rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life, but he'll be living. While Astoria's body rots in a coffin six feet underground. How can you tell me he hasn't won? You couldn't.

The trial begins.

"Theodore Christopher Nott," the Minister begins, "You are standing before the Wizengamot today for the murder of Astoria Malfoy, as well as the murder of Hannah Claybourne and Travis Benjamin. Do you deny any of these charges?"

Theodore grins even wider. "No, your honor."

There are whispers around the courtroom. I recognize the name Claybourne—it was the surname of the old man who spoke to me the night of the murder. I look for him in the crowd, but he isn't there. I should have done the same. This doesn't feel like justice—this feels like torture. It feels like judgement. And the arrow is aimed directly at me.

I sit through the rest of the trial, torturing myself in the process. As I heard the prosecutor, Padma Patil, shred Nott with questions and evidence, a revelation came over me. I shouldn't be here—I don't deserve to be here. As I listen to Nott speak, the reasoning is clear. I rattled the cages. I put Astoria at risk. For what? To prove that I was better than him? Even as he had me chained in his warehouse, I wanted to prove my superiority over him. Cause that's who I am—or who I was. Right now, Nott has shown me who is the superior. It is the ones who aren't afraid of the risk—who aren't scared of the consequences. The ones who know how to aim the knife. That know how to gut your soul and pull out the parts that matter. And leave you incomplete knowing you could never put those pieces back together again.

That was Nott, who made it very clear that I was no different from the others in this courtroom. That just like everyone else, I could be broken.

I didn't deserve to be here. I didn't have the right to sit in front of these people and flaunt my sorrow. I could see the pain and anger in their eyes—the thoughts of murdered loved ones running through their minds. Their wives and brothers—fathers and daughters—even sons…sisters…who didn't have the choice to stay out of it—people who Nott barely remembered. And I had the audacity to sit in front of them, mourning for my wife—when I was given the choice to walk away. But I was arrogant…

So that night, I went to the tallest tower in London. I take my steps slowly, preparing myself for what was to come next. I didn't deserve to be here—to be alive when so many others had fallen under Nott. I had no right to be breathing when my wife was dead—because of my arrogance. So tonight, I would give justice to those who have suffered. I will show them that I am no different.

I reach the ledge, and it feels exhilarating. Is this what it feels like to kill yourself? You're one step away, and all you can think about is how exciting it is. You don't think about the people you would affect—you don't think about how life would be without you. You just know one thing—you can't be here any longer. You know that this decision means no more pain—no more suffering. And that's something to be excited about.

And I hope that wherever I land, I land next to her. I hope she forgives me. Because then, this would have been all for nothing.

Without any second thought—I jump. I let everything go as the wind whooshes through my clothes. I close my eyes, awaiting the moment where I am no more. One more second, and everything goes black.

I have done it.

* * *

 _Now._

We are all shocked by the news—me and Seamus especially. Throughout these four years, we've made sure that no one, not even the greatest sorcerers in the world, could figure out the Vigilante's identity. There was no way—no possible way in hell—that Harry Potter figured out who I was. Not by himself, somebody must have told him—but who? Nobody knew who I was except Seamus.

"Who is it?" Hermione asks. I turn to look at her, wondering what she would think of me after the truth comes out. If she would forgive me for the things I did, and the things I will do to keep my identity a secret. I notice Seamus pulling out his wand, and I do the same. I've gone four years without anyone knowing the truth, it won't end now. Not with everything that's happening, and what's waiting. I wait for Harry to say the words. To say my name. But it never comes. Instead…

"Come see for yourself," Potter says, and it feels like the world has been turned upside down. _Come see for yourself?_ What was Potter talking about? The Vigilante was right here. He was standing right in front of him. But I don't debate—me, Seamus, and Hermione follow Harry to the interrogation room, where this so called "vigilante" is waiting.

We take the elevator to the bottom floor, where the courtrooms and interrogation rooms are. I get a chilly feeling as we step out—I haven't been down here since Nott's trial. Reason being, I usually try to stay away from here if I can. Seamus always takes the cases—I just provide the evidence.

We make a right down the corridor, now facing a hallway with several doors. We follow Harry to Interrogation room W5, where two guards are waiting for us.

"Has he said anything else?" Harry asks, and I grow anxious to know who exactly he is talking about.

The guard shakes his head. "Nothing but 'I'm the Vigilante' over and over again."

We walk in, and I immediately recognize the "Vigilante" and I know Seamus does too. It's one of the guards from Gringotts last night, looking as lifeless as he did when he was under my imperious curse. He sits in the metal interrogation chair, his hands dangling by his side. His current condition didn't make sense. He was fine last night after I removed the curse—so what happened to him? I walk in slowly, trying to find any sign of abuse or deception. But he looks the same as yesterday. Something didn't feel right.

He looks up at me, and something that looked like realization spark in his eyes. Maybe because I'm an Auror and he's seen me as Draco Malfoy plenty of times, but that isn't what it feels like. It feels like he truly knows me—and that he knows I'm the true Vigilante.

"I'm the Vigilante." He says.

"No," I say, walking further into the room. I take my place in the second metal chair across from his. "You are a security guard at Gringotts Bank."

His eyes grow wider. "Gringotts….I was at Gringotts last night…I'm the Vigilante."

I look at Seamus, but just like me, he doesn't have a clue of what is going on. Did he recognize me? Does he know I'm the Vigilante? If so, I have to play this smart—one wrong word and he might expose me to everyone in the room. But something seems to be wrong with him—and I have to find that out as well. Salazar help me.

"Yes, you were at Gringotts last night." I say slowly, trying to find a sign that he may have been cursed-again. "But you were on guard duty. The Aurors found you tied up on the bottom floor."

"I'm the Vigilante." He repeats.

"Okay," Seamus says, "Let's take a new approach. Why do you _think_ you're the Vigilante?"

"I am the Vigilante." The guard says again. His eyes grows wider, I can tell he truly believes this. "I took it." He looks to me again. "I took the key."

Harry then takes a bigger interest. "Key? What key?"

"The key," The guard responds. "I'm the Vigilante."

"But I thought," Hermione says, taking interest as well. "I thought the Vigilante didn't take anything. He claimed to be looking for the Wand of Nott—which wasn't there."

I look at Seamus and he gives me the same look. We're both thinking the same thing. I only took one thing out of that vault last night. An old blank piece of parchment. I look at Harry, and his facial expression has immediately changed. I didn't find out why until we returned to his office.

"He took it," Harry growled. "He took the Wand of Nott and had the guards tell me otherwise."

It wasn't a stretch, but I knew it wasn't true. The Wand of Nott truly wasn't there—but nonetheless, the Vigilante did take something. But I can't be the one to defend him. And that means losing Harry's confidence in the Vigilante.

Hermione speaks next. "Why would the Vigilante want to steal the Wand of Nott?"

"Why does the Vigilante _do_ anything, Hermione?" Harry spits back. "He has to be working with Nott. That's why he lied."

"Are you sure it's the wand?" Seamus asks. "The guard said that the Vigilante took the 'key'—that could be a number of things."

But Harry isn't listening.

* * *

That night Seamus and I stand around the wooden table in the middle of my Vigilante dungeon liar, examining the blank parchment I stole from Nott's vault. It is still blank, but I know deep down that there is something more to this parchment than its appearance.

"So, according to the babbling guard back at the Ministry, this is the key?" asks Seamus.

I nod. "So it seems. But the key to what?"

"Maybe it's a ruse. Maybe whoever messed with that bloke's brain wants us to focus on this parchment—to throw us off our game."

"But if it isn't," I say, but I don't ignore the fact that Seamus may be right. "We risk an even bigger threat."

Seamus sighs. "And let's not forget that you've gotten on Potter's bad side. If he's anything like the Harry Potter from school, he won't stop until he gets to the bottom of this."

I don't say anything, but I agree. Even if this isn't Nott, there's someone out there toying with me. Someone's out there planning something big—something bigger than stealing wand blueprints and creating hybrid creatures. Harry has been through some dangerous things in his life—but he never went at it alone. With this feeling squeezing my insides, I can't let him do this alone either—this is bigger than both of us.

"I'm going to visit Potter." I say, as I change into Vigilante attire.

"Okay, that's cheery," Seamus says, "But any reason why you're putting on your Vigilante gear?"

"I'm not going to visit him as Draco Malfoy." I pull on my gloves, conjure my hair, and put on my mask.

Seamus the lost his temper. "Oh no, oh _hell_ no. Did you not witness what I did at the Ministry today? Harry wants your head—he thinks you stole the Wand of Nott. Going to him now may be exactly what he wants."

"I know." I respond. "But if he keeps thinking that, he's going to put himself in danger."

"Something that he has plenty of experience in. He'll be fine for just this once."

I ignore his comment. "If Theodore Nott is behind this, and Harry gets involved, you and I both know what Nott will do to him, Seamus. Potter has a family."

Seamus doesn't say anything else—he knows I'm right. He also knows the true reason why I'm concerned for Harry's family. Because Theodore Nott took my family away from me. And after everything thing I've been through—I wouldn't wish that upon him. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. So I won't—even if that means putting myself in harm's way. If he ends up hating the Vigilante, that's fine—but I can't allow myself to make the same mistake twice.

* * *

I appear at 12 Grimmauld Place—the current home of the Potters. As the blue and red flames disappear, I close my eyes, imagining my next destination. The Foyer of the home—it's dark and dusty and there is a door that leads to the kitchen. Another moment and I'm inside—but I am quickly pinned to the wall by Harry Potter himself. His wand is at my throat and his eyes are filled with anger and uncertainty. He was waiting for me.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Potter." I say slowly. "I only want to talk."

Harry doesn't budge. "I know you took it. And don't even try to lie to me. So let's just cut the bullshit. _Why did you take it?_ "

I'm not comfortable with my current position—and I'm kind of hacked off that Harry Potter has me pinned against the wall like this. Despite my personal feelings, I can't talk to him like this. I have to level the playing ground. So I leave 12 Grimmauld Place, and I take Harry with me.

We appear in a deserted field, not far from Luna Lovegood's old place. There's no one out here, just me, the Vigilante, and Harry Potter, in his pajamas. He's still holding his wand, prepared for a battle that won't come. Or maybe he's testing me—to see if I did steal the Wand of Nott. To test whether I would be stupid enough to pull it out in front of him. He will have to be disappointed tonight.

After a few minutes, he breaks his stance—he isn't used to my traveling methods. He sinks to his knees, trying to catch his breath. It is then he finally sets down his wand and speaks for the first time since we've arrived. "Where the fuck did you just take me?"

"Not far." I respond. "But I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to hear anything from you!" He says, still trying to catch his breath. "Except you admitting that you took the Wand of Nott from Gringotts Bank that night. And that you cursed that guard to have him take the blame."

I keep my face un-phased. "I can't tell you that, Potter—because it isn't true. The Wand of Nott was not in the vault, and it hasn't been in a long time." I snap my fingers and a green folder appears out of thin air. It levitates towards Potter.

Like I expected, he refuses to accept it at first. "What is that?"

"Harlem Nott's Gringotts record. Every withdrawal, deposit, and trade."

"Where did you get this?" Harry snatches the envelope, scanning the contents. " _How_ did you get this?"

I watch him explore the folder. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you will find that Harlem Nott, Theodore Nott's father, took the wand out of the vault over a year ago. Nobody knows where he or the wand is now."

"Why should I trust you? How do I know that this isn't a ruse?"

I prepare to leave, imagining two different destinations this time. "You don't have to trust me. Just trust what I'm doing. This is bigger than the both of us."

The field is now covered in blue and red flames, and we both disappear. I arrive in the Malfoy dungeon, while Harry arrives back in the foyer of his home. Seamus is gone when I get back, but the blank piece of parchment- the key—is waiting for me there. Whatever Nott had planned, I was going to figure it out. He wouldn't hurt anybody else—I would make sure of it.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	4. Secrets in Breeding

Chapter 4: Secrets in Breeding

I've died before. Mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually. And now—physically. I feel a new sense of freedom that I've never felt before. I feel a new sense of belonging—a new sense of purpose. I have escaped my nightmares—I've escaped the pain.

Or so I thought.

* * *

 _Four Years Ago._

I wake up. There is a bright light shining in my face, and a small gear in my head tells me that this is heaven. And because this is heaven, I know Astoria is here. I have made it. In those few seconds, a million possibilities come to my mind. When can I see her? Where will I find her? Is she waiting for me? What will I say?

But as I sit up to take in my surroundings, I find myself somewhere other than heaven. Yes, it is bright and angelic like heaven. Yes, it is calm and peaceful like heaven. Yet, I know it is not. Because I am now looking in the face of the once Lord Voldemort—and there is no heaven where he resides. A piece of my heart tightens, and I hate myself for even feeling this type of pain. Because if I'm feeling this pain, I know I've failed. But the question was now, where was I?

I stray away from the former Dark Lord's face and I recognize a few others as well. Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape. All of them sit before me—eyeing me as if I have trespassed into somewhere mortals are forbidden. I say the only thing I can say at this moment.

"Astoria?"

Lord Voldemort speaks first, and his high voice sends chills down my back. "Astoria is not here, boy."

"Then, where am I?" I ask.

"Where would you say we are?" Dumbledore asks me. I take a moment to look around me—to notice the details I missed before. There are chains scattered across the floor. A chair settled in the middle of the room. Nothing else—nothing useful—nothing helpful. It all seems familiar. And then…there was the smell—and I knew exactly where I was. I felt my stomach twist in knots. There were flashes of anger and confusion in my eyes. Had I mistaken heaven for hell?

"You brought me back here?" I ask, my voice cold and bitter. "Why?"

Grindelwald answers. "A reminder."

"A reminder of what?" My tongue burns with venom—I lose it. "That my wife is dead?! That this is my fault? I am reminded of it—EVERY GODDAMN DAY!"

"Calm your tone, Malfoy." Snape barks back. "It is no one's fault but your own to why you are standing here."

But the funny thing was—I knew this already. Everything that had happened so far was my fault. It was no surprise that this was another thing to add to my list. Yet, I couldn't figure out if where I was standing was a good thing—or another nightmare. I look at the faces of the old wizards before me—wizards who had been long gone. Out of everything, I could say I was most interested in the fact that they looked as if they were still in their prime. No signs of stress—it was if I was seeing them many years ago—as a boy at Hogwarts.

"What is this?" I ask, not standing down to the men before me. "I should be dead."

Dumbledore speaks to me next. "That you should. But you have been chosen, Draco—though we did not wish to meet you this early."

 _This early?_ I catch Dumbledore's cryptic words. I was always supposed to end up here? Still, I didn't even know where here was. I didn't know why Lord Voldemort, Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape were sitting before me as if they were gods. And I definitely didn't know what all of it had to do with me.

"You want to know where we are." Grindelwald says. It isn't a question. He's reading my mind—my thoughts. Would it be weird if I admitted I felt his touch in my mind, yet I didn't fight it? Or did I even have control to begin with?

"We are in the space between hell and heaven. A different dimension. A place where only the fiercest and most powerful wizards can reside. Welcome, Draco Malfoy, to Elysium."

The words sounded ironic. _The fiercest and most powerful wizards._ It sounded like a mistake. Maybe it could describe Potter or even Weasley. But not me. My whole life I've been a coward. And when I wasn't a coward—I was arrogant. And my arrogance led to…

Most powerful? Yet, in this moment, I felt powerless.

"In your death," Lord Voldemort says. "you have chosen to take your place as Guardian."

I frown. "Guardian? Guardian of what?"

"The Wizarding Community." Grindelwald answers. "Without us, the balance between right and wrong is unbalanced. Someone must be there to protect it. To re-establish the balance."

"Protect it?" I ask, confused. "It's already protected. Potter _defeated_ Voldemort. He's reshaped the whole Ministry and he's head of the Auror department. The same department that put Theodore Nott in Azkaban."

I take my shot at Voldemort, but he only smiles wickedly. "Yes," he says. "This is true. But Potter defeated me after I murdered hundreds of people, mudbloods and wizards alike. Men, women, and children."

"And his department," Gellert Grindelwald barks. "Only caught Theodore Nott after he _murdered_ your wife."

I wanted to argue back, but the two great wizards were right. What were they? The Devil's Avocates or something? But now that I thought about it, what was Potter really doing to protect the Wizarding Community? Even after the war, there were so many people who were still being cursed and murdered in the street. There were former Death Eaters leading uprising cults and clans in Knockturn Alley. Kids were still disappearing—muggles were still at risk. Who were we really protecting? Why were we always too late?

"What Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort are saying," Snape adds on. "is that Potter operates inside of the law. He does things by the book now, unfortunately. If you remember, Mister Malfoy, we didn't become the greatest wizards of our time by following the rules."

It was true, they didn't. Grindelwald was kicked out of Dumstrang for performing dark magic; he was partly responsible for the death of Dumbledore's younger sister and he was the first out of the four to possess the Elder Wand—after stealing it from Gregorovitch.

Everyone knew the story of Lord Voldemort—the releaser of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, the world's notorious dark wizard—killing people by the hundreds, scaring others into doing his bidding, breaking the boundaries of proper magical ethics by even existing.

Severus Snape, who defied the laws of good and evil by being a double agent for both Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. He joined Voldemort's army—doing who knows what while in his service. There was no right way to do things with him—he only did what he had to. But that came with a price.

Albus Dumbledore, who was never the righteous old man everyone thought him out to be—in my opinion. He had too many secrets—but every rule he broke was for the greater good of the people. He sacrificed himself for me, despite who I was and what I represented, so that I wouldn't have to bear the burden of murdering someone.

"What the world needs," Dumbledore peers over his moon-shaped spectacles to look at me. "Is someone who can operate outside of the magical law. Someone who can get into the dark places that the Ministry can't get to. Someone who can stop the chaos before it even begins."

He continues to stare, and I understand what he means. And somehow, there is a calling—a throbbing in my chest. A sense of purpose and belonging returning.

"A Guardian."

* * *

 _Now._

It is 3 am. I have to report to the Ministry of Magic in four hours. I have to pretend that I didn't have a conversation with Potter the night before, and that I didn't give him my whole file on Harlem Nott. But I needed him to trust the Vigilante, I needed his focus on the true enemy.

Theodore Nott.

But if that were true, I wouldn't be awake at 3 in the morning. Something is eating at me. A question knawing at my brain and I don't wish to answer it. Or even acknowledge that it exists. But as I stare at his parchment, I can't help but wonder…

What proof do we have that Theodore Nott is behind this?

Yes, it's his family's wand. Yes, his father took it out of Gringotts over a year ago. Yes, Nott has been caught with parchment like the one in front me sending messages to an unknown party. These are all facts.

But none of them tie him to the blame.

I have to be sure.

I barely picture my destination, but I know I'll end up in the right place. The red and blue flames swallow me, and I appear. On the outskirts of Azkaban. It is raining as usual, with the waves roaring over the spikey rocks that fence the prison. I've been here before, on multiple occasions—to stop myself from doing the one thing I'm pushing myself to do now.

Swiftly and softly, I make my way to the nearest underground tunnel. There are 3 underground tunnels into Azkaban. These tunnels were used by the Ministry of Magic to "transport" and deliver prisoners and other items into the prison. Most of the transports were done by dirty Aurors, who were either sneaking their comrades out of prison, or leading them to their deaths. When Cornelius Fudge came into power, he had all of the original Azkaban blueprints destroyed and replaced with new ones—new ones that didn't include the entrances or exits to the secret tunnels. However, my father kept one of the original copies—no surprise there. I found it searching through his library one night. It was the first night I tested out my traveling system.

The tunnel is covered by a large rock, and it takes no effort to move it. I slip inside before the next beam of light flashes.

My heart is pounding as I crawl through the tunnel. I keep repeating the mission in my head. _Information only. Nothing else._ But along with my heart, the blood in my veins is pumping. I try to keep calm, to show restraint—but ultimately I am worried. I have done all this, and I haven't even laid eyes on him yet.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes have passed and I'm still traveling. I've come too far to turn around, but I'm not sure If I want to reach the end of this tunnel. But the mission. I have to be sure.

As I finally enter the prison, I find myself in Maximum Security. There are no guards around, but the cameras are intact—something Potter thought of when he became head of the department. In this moment I wish I had Seamus helping me, but he would kill me if he knew I was here. He would literally kill me.

I mumble a small spell, and my whole suit disappears. The perks of having your Vigilante suit made with the same material as invisibility cloaks. My ruse won't last long, especially when Nott gets to talking. I don't have long. Five, ten minutes tops.

I walk straight to his cell. I don't waste time for a greeting. I don't allow him to notice that I'm there. Straight to mission. Before the mission becomes strangling him to death.

"Where did he take it?" I ask.

Nott turns, and I have to restrain myself harder than before. He looks the same, his hair has grown out, but I can still see the selfish, childish glint in his eye. The same glint he had when he murdered Astoria. When he stood in front of the Minster of Magic and everyone in that room, admitting to every crime they accused him of. _The mission._

"Oh, it's you." He responds. "They told me you would be coming to visit me soon. That you would be looking for it. The wand."

"Who is they?"

Silence. He wants me to figure it out.

"Is it the person you've been sending outside messages to?"

Nott laughs. "I wish. But I have recently found out that my messages aren't being delivered to the right person."

I take a step forward. I have maybe three minutes. "Because the guards caught you?"

"Because someone has been _taking_ them." Nott responded, seething. He now walks to the edge of his cell, his face touching the rusted bars. If he could see me, he would know that he was staring directly into my eyes. Or maybe he did know.

"Every month, I send out a letter." He continues. "And every month, there is no response. I tried sending to messages to different people. Using different owls. Different parchment. But it all ends the same." His eyes grew bigger. "Gone…"

As he rambles on, something clicks in my head. _Different parchment?_ I reach into my pocket, pulling out the piece of parchment I stole from Nott's vault nights before. Do I dare show him? I must. I need to know.

"Parchment like this?" I ask.

Nott nods quickly. " _Yesss._ Just. Like. That."

I press further. "And the person who has been taking them, they know how to decode them?"

"Of course. Otherwise they wouldn't have come to see me."

His words are cryptic, but I catch on right away. The last visit he had were from a few Ministry investigators. Kingsley's personal department.

"Oi!" I hear a guard shout from the stairs. I've run out of time. "Who's down there?!"

"What made them come see you?" I ask quickly, backing slowly towards the underground tunnel.

Nott begins to laugh, still staring into my eyes as if he knows exactly who I am. "I told them I had something he wanted."

Did I forget to mention how much I hated how vague Theodore Nott was? He gave me information, but not as much information as I wanted. But I didn't have enough time to ask him anymore questions. The guards were already making their way down the stairs.

I slipped in the tunnel as soon as they started the cruciatus curse on him. A part of me wanted to be the one to cast the curse, but another part of me—the guardian part of me—felt like he didn't deserve it.

* * *

 _8:15 A.M._

"I want to kill you right now, but I can't. And that's making me upset."

Seamus looked like he wanted to strangle me in front of the whole department. I told him about my early morning adventure, only because I could barely stay awake at my desk. I thought confronting Nott last night would ease my anxiety, but it only sparked it once more. I slept in the dungeons last night, replaying our conversation over and over in our head. But there was only one thing I could get from it.

Somebody in Kingsley's department was stealing the messages Nott was sending out of Azkaban. And not only were they stealing them. They knew how to decode them as well.

"I had to go." I told Seamus. "I had to make sure it was him."

"And now we know it's a mole in the Ministry. It's the second wizarding war all over again."

I nodded. "Somebody also tipped him off. Said that I would be coming for him about the Wand of Nott."

"Well, the second part isn't surprising. It's all in the paper that the Vigilante broke into the Nott's vault at Gringotts. What is surprising is that someone is close enough to Nott to tip him off."

I took a sip of my coffee. "Or it could've been the same person who is stealing his messages."

Seamus shrugged. "And you're sure Kingsley's department was the last to visit Nott?"

"It's the last visit on file." I don't sound convinced.

Seamus gives me that look—that look when I'm trying to feed myself my own dung. This was now another thing we needed to prove, which led to another reason to visit Azkaban.

"Look what you've started." Seamus said, thinking the same.

"Malfoy! Finnegan!" Harry calls from his office. "In here. Now!"

I grab my coffee and head towards Potter's office. As soon as I enter, I lose my breath. I wasn't expecting Hermione to be inside as well. She is sitting on top of Potter's desk, looking as beautiful as ever. Seamus nudges me, bringing me back to reality. Or in other words, bringing my attention to the green folder on Potter's desk. Harlem Nott's file. The one the Vigilante gave him days ago.

Potter shuts his door, casting a silencing charm before addressing the three of us. Hermione doesn't seem concerned. I wouldn't be surprised if she had already read Nott's file before Potter brought me and Seamus in.

"It turns out…" Potter says slowly, though I can tell he regrets it. "That the Vigilante isn't responsible for the Wand of Nott's disappearance."

"It was his father." Hermione spoke next, confirming my suspicions. "Harlem Nott had the wand removed over a year ago. He disappeared sometime after."

"So whoever is targeting the wand makers…" said Seamus. "…must have tried looking for him first."

"And failed." I say next. "Otherwise they wouldn't be stealing blueprints."

All this made me think about what Nott said this morning. _I told them I had something he wanted._ Could it have been the Wand of Nott? If Kingsley's department was behind this, that means someone in the Ministry was trying to recreate its power. But for what?

"There's another thing." Potter says. "During the second wizarding war, Lord Voldemort hired Harlem Nott for a special project. A breeding project."

I now understood Granger's involvement. But I was unaware of this "breeding project." It wasn't in the file I gave to Potter, only information about the wand. Hermione must have read my expression of ignorance. She pulled out another green folder out of her bag.

"I did a bit of research." She started. She dug through the file, pulling out several pieces of parchment. Each with a different drawing. Creatures. Creatures that looked similar to the genetically randomized creatures appearing across the world.

"Voldemort had Nott draw up the blueprints for these creatures. My assumption is if he would've succeeded long ago, the creatures would have been created to function at his will."

I frown. "So these creatures belong to Nott? As what? His pets?"

"Maybe." She responds. "Something to keep his foot in the world while he's hiding. It isn't the worst idea. It would explain why they haven't cause an incident yet."

"Should we inform the Minister?" Seamus asks.

"No." Potter answers immediately. "We don't have enough proof to go to Kingsley, yet."

A part of me wants to sigh in relief. I didn't want Kingsley involved, Minister of Magic or not. Somebody, or even him, in his department was after the Wand of Nott. And that somebody was already receiving information from Theodore Nott—what good would it be to give him more information?

"But you three…" Potter continues. "Have enough information to go find him."

"Find him?" Seamus raises a brow. "As in find Harlem Nott?"

 _Well, that's cheery._ I think to myself.

"Cheery." Seamus says.


	5. Chances

Chapter 5: Chances

Second chances are…weird. Sometimes liberating. It makes you wonder does everyone get them. And if they don't—why were you so special? Second chances give you a choice—scratch that—an obligation to do better. To be something more than yourself.

* * *

 _Four years ago._

The tailor is looking over my blueprints. She seems awe-struck by them, but not surprised. We live in world where people use brooms to travel and wooden sticks to wash dishes. You would have to find something completely unorthodox to surprise us wizards.

"These designs, Mister Malfoy…" She said, still fascinated. "Are beautiful. And the idea of having them made from invisibility cloaks…it's unheard of." She removed her glasses. "But if you don't mind me asking, what are these for?"

"Just small project for the community." I lie. "To let them know that the Malfoys still care."

She smiles. "I see." She folds up my blueprints. I can tell she is eager to start on them right away. That works better in my favor. I'm not sure how long Dumbledore will allow me to sit around without beginning my duty as guardian.

"I'm glad you're doing better, Mister Malfoy." She says as she picks out the perfect black fabric. "That was a pretty nasty fall you took."

My smile disappears, and I'm not sure how to respond. How can I respond? How can I explain jumping off the tallest tower in London, and then appearing at this tailor shop with no broken bones—no even a bruise?

"Ummmm…." I try to think of something quick.

The tailor laughs at me. "Don't worry, my dear. Your secret is safe with me." She then walks over to the counter, dumping all her needed materials upon it. "It isn't every day we are granted second chances…"

I look back down at my designs, and I felt myself agreeing with her in my bones. It took dying to actually begin making a difference—to find that purpose I once felt like I had lost.

"I know you will do right by us, Mister Malfoy." She said. "Just don't forget why you're doing it."

Still speechless, I nod. I step outside of the shop, beginning my walk to the nearest floo. My parents are supposed to be visiting this weekend. I haven't seen them since the funeral. I try to think about what I've done since then—to spark a different conversation. I can't.

I turn down the alley to floo back home, and that's when it happens.

"Help!" A woman screams. "Help me! Somebody!"

As if I had been doing it all my life, I reach in my pocket. I pull out the black mask I made a few nights ago and put it over my head. I didn't need a suit for this—I just needed to help her.

I sneak around the corner and find the distressed witch being cornered by a retired Death Eater. I notice he's stripped the witch of her wand, leaving her defenseless. I don't have much time before he hurts her—or worse. _Astoria._

I whip out my wand, casting a paralysis curse. The Death Eater must have sensed me—he moves at the last minute. He turns towards me, giving the witch room to escape.

"Run!" I scream. And she hesitates—she doesn't know I'm here to help.

"Run, now!" I scream again. This time she gets the message, sprinting out of the alley. She didn't even bother to pick up her wand.

The Ex- Death Eater smirks. "She wasn't any fun no way. But you boy," He pulls out a knife. "…you're just my speed."

He lunges at me with the knife, and I barely miss it. The tip of the blade catches my shirt, slicing a hole in the fabric. I go for a punch, landing one in his jaw. He stumbles back a little. I don't wait for him to gain his senses. I go for another punch, this time his nose. Instant blackout. I whip out my wand, casting the paralysis curse again. He freezes, blood dripping down his face and all. It's over.

I feel something inside of me. Adrenaline. It feels so natural—as if I should have been doing this all along. I turn my head and the witch whom I just saved is standing there. She looks at me briefly, and then to her attacker.

 _A second chance. A guardian._

* * *

 _Now._

I stand in the dungeons, making my final sweep before I return to the Ministry. Potter wanted us to leave as soon as possible, so I had no time to rest. Our first destination was Romania, where the hybrid creatures were first spotted. I turn to my glass case—the glass case that held the Vigilante's suit.

"Please tell me you're packing that, too." I hear Seamus say. I hear his footsteps clumping down the steps, his suitcase in hand. He seems more eager than me about this mission.

"I was actually going to leave it." I respond. "Its only Ministry business, right?"

Seamus throws me that look. I'm trying to feed myself my own bullshit again. "If you honestly believe you'll find out _anything_ with that Auror badge on your chest, you need your head checked, mate."

He's right. But after that revelation, I realize that isn't what's bothering me. And though I hate to admit it….

"What if Granger finds out?" I ask, still staring at my suit. "You don't think she'll notice me disappearing in the night?"

"If Hermione Granger is still the same witch we knew at Hogwarts," Seamus answers. "She'll be in her room, flipping through books and papers until we have to shake her awake the next morning." He then laughed. I know he's teasing me. "She won't be worried about little ole Draco Malfoy."

Seamus then opens the glass case and removes my suit. He throws it on top of my suitcase, and just like the gates of Elysium, it calls to me. I have no choice but to pack it. Hopefully, Seamus is right about Granger's interests. Otherwise, this situation will get way more complicated. Especially once word gets out that the Vigilante is in Romania.

Seamus and I return to the Ministry. We were instructed to come back to Potter's office, where he will debrief us on our mission. Of course, Seamus had a few questions along the way.

"So what happens if we find him?" He asks. "Harlem Nott?"

I answer like clockwork. "We bring him back to the Ministry."

Seamus rolls his eyes. "Okay, let me rephrase. What happens if _you_ find him?"

I knew what he meant. I just didn't have the answer. What would I do when I found Harlem Nott? Who would I be? Draco Malfoy, Class A Auror? Or the Vigilante? The Vigilante would be more efficient, but also risky. Yet i knew a man like Harlem Nott wouldn't be afraid of an Auror, nor allow himself to be caught by one.

I realized I took too long to answer, because Seamus says—

"Just don't kill him. Do what you gotta do and then leave him in front of the Inn of something."

We walk into Potter's office, and Hermione is waiting for us with her suitcase. I try not to stare too long, and I definitely try not to think about my Vigilante suit. Our eyes meet momentarily, but then Potter walks in behind me.

"Kingsley wants me in his office in ten minutes, so I'll have to be quick with the debriefing." He says quickly. He handed us each a manila folder—the words "CLASSIFIED" stamped on the front.

"You three are on Recon _only._ If you find Harlem Nott, you contact me immediately. Do not go after him alone. Understood?"

I see Granger cast a mischievous smile as she reads over her file. I can tell she already has her own plans for this mission—it makes me feel less nervous about my own.

"This assignment isn't approved by the Minster, so keep a low profile." Potter continues.

 _Good._ I think. _More time to for my other activities._

"And if we can't keep a low profile?" I ask. "It is Romania. We don't particularly fit in."

"Well, find somewhere to fit." Potter responds back. "If Harlem Nott can hide out there for a year, you three can lay low for a couple days."

"Any other questions?" Hermione asked, smirking.

Seamus smiled back. "Just one. What are your plans for tonight?"

* * *

 _Nighttime – 1:07 AM_

I stand on the roof of our hotel in Romania, looking for anything—or anyone—suspicious. The streets are much quieter than Diagon Alley. If Harlem Nott was hiding out here, I could see why. This part of Romania was basically a ghost town.

"See anything?" Seamus asks from our telepathic coms.

"Not yet." I respond, my eyes still on alert. "This place is basically a ghost town."

"Which makes the perfect hiding spot—for both man and hybrid creature."

I nodded in agreement. I've been up here since midnight, and it's been the same ever since. There was a crowd of men leaving the pub around 12:30. They were drunk—too loud to be any friends of Nott. After that, nothing.

I thought about what Draco Malfoy might be doing right now. Would he be looking over files? Or grabbing a drink at the bar? Talking Quidditch with Seamus? I wonder would he have had the guts to talk to Hermione. Which made me think about something else…

"Did you really have to ask Granger what she was doing tonight?" I ask.

Seamus laughs. "Don't act like you didn't want to know."

I did want to know. But not for the Vigilante's purpose, for a Draco Malfoy purpose. But like most times, Seamus was right. Granger admitted that she would be in her room reading over her files tonight. She wouldn't be worried about what me and Seamus were up to.

 _2:07 AM_

I'm tired, but something won't let me give in. Maybe it's my eagerness to find Nott. Or maybe it's the fact that I would have to be Draco Malfoy for another day. Right when I have no other alternatives, that something finally shows himself. A person—a man?—black hooded cloak—walking down the street. Could it be Nott? Or could it be someone else? Someone who could lead me to him. Or someone who could tell me about the hybrid creatures.

"Seamus…"

"Looks like their heading North." He responds. "Keep your distance. If it's who we think it is, he has the Wand of Nott, remember?"

"Noted." I jump off the building, disappearing in a band of flames halfway down. I reappear in an alley just ahead of the hooded figure. Their head is on a swivel, as if someone is following them. If that's true, that's another thing I have to worry about tonight.

I keep this up for a while, growing tired of following this hooded figure. I begin to suspect that maybe it's one of the locals, walking home late. But then the hooded figure turns down an alley, and I see my opportunity to confront them. I disappear once more, re-emerging in corresponding alley. The hooded figure freezes.

"You're him." The figure speaks, and I immediately recognize _her_ voice. But in my hesitation, I forget that she was being followed. I'm bagged. The last thing I remember is darkness.

" _Draco…"_ I hear Seamus say. " _Oi! Draco!"_

But I can't answer him.

 _"Whatever you've gotten yourself into this time mate, you better not get yourself killed!"_

 **Short Chapter. But Much More To Come!**


	6. Kidnapped

Chapter 6: Kidnapped

What they don't tell you about second chances—is that everyone may not understand. You have your select few, but then there are some…who just don't get it.

* * *

 _Four years ago._

The green flames disappear and I am home. Malfoy Manor. I barely step out of my chimney when my mother comes walking around the corner. I steady my breathing—I must pretend I didn't apprehend an Ex-Death Eater in an alley moments ago.

"Draco, darling!" My mother says, her heels clicking towards me. "Where have you been? And your _shirt!"_

"I'm fine, mother." I say dismissively. "Just a little mishap at the tailor shop." I know he's around. I'm just waiting for him to show himself.

My mother scoffed. "You should let our family tailor do your suits, Draco. Those locals in Diagon Alley have no respect for fine fabrics as these."

"Would you like some tea?" I ask, changing the subject.

We sit down in the family room. Mother is unapologetically fixing her tea just the way she likes it. Three sugar cubes. A dash of honey. And a dash of lemon. She stirs it as if everything is fine. As if I not sitting at the edge of my seat, waiting for the devil in sheep's clothing to reveal himself.

"I spoke to Missus Greengrass the other day. She says she hasn't seen you since the funeral."

I sip my own tea, trying to calm my nerves. "We have nothing to talk about. All she wants to talk about is…."

Mother sets down her tea, knowing the end of my sentence. "I know, sweetheart. I know. But that is her daughter, if I lost you…"

My eyes look up to meet hers, and something twists disturbingly in my stomach. She almost did lose me. And I can see in her eyes that maybe she felt like she already had, or was about to. Another thing I have to thank Elysium for.

"Draco." A voice says sharply, and our moment is ruined.

He is standing in the doorway, silver-headed snake cane in hand. My father. Lucius Malfoy. I felt that adrenaline pump through me once more, but there was something else. Almost like a levee—something stopping the adrenaline, the rush from spilling over.

I set down my teacup and follow him to his study. Yes, I still call it his study—there are too many dirty secrets and lies for me to call it mine. I barely feel comfortable calling the manor mine. Nevertheless…

"I spoke to Harlem Nott the other day." I could hear the disappointment sparking in his voice. "He tells me Theodore is being transferred to Azkaban."

I nod. "Yes sir. That was his sentence."

"From the Ministry, yes, but not from us."

I know where he is going with this. It was the same thing I've been fighting with myself about since Astoria's murder. He wants me to kill Theodore Nott. And I want to. But I know I can't. However, to keep my father at bay, I play into his intentions.

"Of course, father." I respond. "He'll be dead before he reaches the island."

And then…he laughs. A despicable laugh. "No, you won't." He says, and I hate to think it—but did he know? About the fall? My trip to Elysium?

Nope.

"He's already been transferred." My father says, and I feel the anger radiating off him.

I close my eyes, preparing myself for what's to come next.

"You let a _Nott_ murder your wife and practically get away with it!" He rages on. "Harlem could barely hold back the smirk on his face as he told me his son was being transferred— _alive_ I might add—to Azkaban. And here _you_ are, visiting petty tailors in Diagon Alley!"

 _That isn't who I am anymore._ I wanted to shout back. But who was I? I was granted the chance to find out, but he wouldn't understand. He only understood that his daughter-in-law's murderer got away, and that his son had no plans to avenge her.

Or so he thought.

"And I know you haven't been visiting Missus Greengrass. It's like you barely care! Every day you do _nothing_ —and the Malfoy name just goes further and further down the drain. Are you even my _son_?!"

That part cuts me deep. The words come out before I could stop them. "All this coming from the same man who couldn't even stand up to Lord Voldemort in his own house."

His face turns pale- I've hit a nerve. But I can't stop. "What was that?"

"You heard me." I press on. "I may be dragging our family name further down the drain, but it was you who dragged us down here. You let him come into our house and takeover—"

"Watch your tone, Lucius." My middle name. His name. He's trying to remind me of who I am. Of who he is.

"—he beat you around like you were his little pet. He treated the snake better than you. Maybe I would've been stronger, had I not had to watch my father gravel for scraps in his own home!"

Before I blink, he's grabbed me by my collar. I'm pinned against the wall, feeling the full strength of Lucius Malfoy.

"I did what I had to do to protect my family." He says through gritted teeth. "I was the one who got us away, who got us back on top. _Me!_ I DID THAT! And you will show me respect, boy. Remember who you are."

Those are his last words. He releases my collar, leaving me alone in his study. I hear him call for my mother, and then I hear her constantly asking "What's wrong?" and "What happened?" But I know he won't answer her.

I tore my father's study apart that night. Me and a bottle of Firewhiskey. I throw his books. I smash his jars of bird feet and pig eyes. I slice through his paintings with my knife. I destroy everything and anything that might have some value to him. If I wasn't so drunk, I would burn it all.

I find a not so cluttered spot on the floor, drinking the last of the Firewhiskey. And it catches my eye. A map. I reach for it—thinking stupidly that it's a map to some long-lost family treasure. Or maybe something else for me to destroy. But it isn't either.

It's a map to Azkaban. The date. 1658. I try to blink myself back to sobriety, but I can't. This was one of the original maps of Azkaban—I thought they had all been destroyed. Though I've been to Azkaban a million times, I study the original blueprints. Everything is the same except for these three underground tunnels—all leading inside the prison from the outskirts of the island. And one of them—just my luck—leads to the Maximum Security wing.

Where Theodore Nott had just been transferred.

* * *

 _Now._

" _Bloody hell!_ The damn thing shocked me!"

"Will you stop playing around?"

"I'm not playing around—the damn thing really shocked me!"

They've been at this for a few minutes, my _kidnappers_ per say. I hesitated—got distracted—and allowed myself to be taken. I don't know where they've taken us—or what they plan to do with us.

"Just wait until the boss comes." One of the kidnappers say. "He'll know what to do. But while we wait… _she_ doesn't have a mask."

And now they've caught my attention.

 _"Seamus."_ Thank Merlin for telepathic links.

 _"Rise and Shine, mate."_

 _"What do we have?"_

 _"Uh, well that's the thing. I have nothing. Scanners are telling me you're still in the alley."_

I don't respond. Seamus's scanners see through any and everything. I could've been halfway around the world in the bottom of a volcano and he could still find me. This only means one thing. This is—or one of—Harlem Nott's hiding spot.

 _"That's not the only problem."_ I tell my partner.

" _What's going on?_ "

Our next kidnapper speaks. "Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's little squeeze."

 _"Hermione's here."_

I watch one of the kidnappers try to reach for her, but she snatches her head away. This isn't her first rodeo with being kidnapped. I should know. It was in Malfoy Manor where she had been kidnapped the first time. Tortured by my now deceased aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange. I know she will hold up, but I know I must get us both out of here.

"Ooooo, still feisty!" The other kidnapper teases. "And I thought the life of luxury might've gone to her head after all these years."

 _"Like here as in kidnapped with you, or like here as in she kidnapped you?"_ Seamus asks.

I fight the urge to scream inside my mask. " _She's kidnapped with me Seamus. I'm going to get us out of here, but I need you to search the alley for any shortcuts, backways, maybe even a tunnel back to the hotel."_

As I'm saying this, I transfigure my glove into the goblin hand I used at Gringotts. I use one of the nails to cut through the rope, it would be too risky to reach for my knives. The whole time I'm cutting through this rope, I count the bodies. There are two men in front of me and Hermione and four sitting at a table near what appears to be the exit door.

"Or maybe she's acting all tough 'cause she's got the Vigilante with her." One of the men from the table says. "Too bad the boss isn't scared of him." He has a Russian accent. Maybe one of Harlem's henchmen? Or somebody who's been transporting the hybrids.

 _You should be._ I think to myself as I cut through the last of the rope, freeing my arms. I hold onto the cut pieces of rope, however, to keep the ruse that I'm tied up. I look for the perfect window—but it seems I will have to make my own.

"Who is your boss?" Granger asks. "Since you're going to kill us either way."

"You will find out soon, enough." The man responds. "Gregor! KG!" The two kidnappers in front of us turn around. A window is opening.

"Go wait outside for the boss. I will watch them."

Gregor and KG nod, leaving out a door behind us. This makes me and Hermione's exit the door where the other four men are sitting. The window is wide open.

"I'm going to cause a distraction." I say lowly, but loudly enough that she hears me. "When the last man is down, I want you to run to that door. Do you understand?"

Granger looks at me as if I'm mad, but the confused glint in her eyes disappears once she sees that I'm no longer tied up. She swallows hard, trying to see if she can trust me or not. She doesn't know it yet, but she could trust me with her life. I'll die first before anything happens to her.

 _"Seamus. Is the EMP in my suit charged up?"_

 _"Uh yeah, but we haven't tested it, Draco. I don't think you should—"_

 _"This is the test."_ I lift my foot up as much as I can without being noticed and stomp the ground. I feel a surge in my suit and everything goes black. I let the ropes drop and I grapple to the highest point in the room.

"Oi!" One of the men at the table says. "What happened to the bloody lights?!"

I stomp again, the lights come back on. My chair is empty and Hermione looks bewildered. I stay out of her line of sight as well, if she spots me, she could lead the others to my position.

"The Vigilante!" Another shouts. "He's gone."

"Bloody hell." The leader of the table says, grabbing his wand. "Search the building! Nobody goes in or out! I want the Vigilante's head! NOW!"

 _"Did it work?_ "

I mark my first target. _"I'll tell you in a few."_

Using the ceiling pipes, I make my way around the room, finding the first man who's dumb enough to isolate himself from the others. Marking my first target, I follow him to a secluded spot behind Hermione. I get myself into position. I stomp again, lunging for him. The lights go out, and everyone panics once more. I have to be quick.

I slap my hand over his mouth, wrapping my other arm around his neck. I wait until the last second to let him go. He's now unconscious. I jump back to my vantage point, allowing the lights to come back on.

The leader of the group laughs. I suspect this isn't his first rodeo either. "He's picking us off one by one! Stay where you can be seen!"

He thinks he's outsmarted me, but all he's done is saved me time. I plan my next move. I could take them all at once, but Hermione could possibly be hurt in the process. It would be too risky to try to get her out first. But I have no other options. It's a risk I'll have to take.

I cause another blackout, and lunge to Hermione's chair. As I cut through her ropes, I feel her body tensing up.

"It's alright." I whisper. "I'm getting you out of here." When I finally free her, I take another risk and transport her to the exit door. My blue and red flames illuminate the room, giving away my last positon.

"He didn't go far." The leader growls. "Nobody can floo out of here."

I don't make any sudden moves, and Granger holds on tightly to my suit. I push the door open, and I guide her through it. We appear in a tunnel, where another door is waiting.

 _"Seamus. What's the word on the backways?"_

 _"Your signal just came back up. Wherever you were, it's a magic dark zone. No outside magic can penetrate it."_

 _"The exit, Seamus. Where does this door lead?"_

 _"To another alley, but it's clear."_

"Use that door." I tell Hermione. "It leads to another alley. Get back to the street and find safety. Don't stop anywhere."

I know listening to me contradicts everything Granger stands for. She's been so used to saving Potter and Weasley's arse that she hasn't had anyone to save hers. But nevertheless, she listens, nodding her head in response and runs towards the exit door. When the door shuts behind her, I slip back inside the dead zone.

 _"You know if Hermione gets back here before you do, she's likely to put two and two together?"_

I prepare myself for the fight. _"I won't be long."_

I stomp my foot for the last time, lighting the room once more. The three men have their wands aimed towards me. They won't have them for long.

"You brought fists to a wand fight, eh?" One of the other men say. "Not smart, mate."

I smirk, disappearing in a band of blue and red flames. I hold it for just a second, to give them time to ponder where I might go. Then, I reappear behind one of them, stupefying him into the wall. I disappear again. Two left.

I reappear again, taking the next smallest man. He catches me before I can sneak him. He's a good fighter, but not good enough. He throws a punch—I dodge it, grabbing his arm midway and throwing him into the table. The whole thing collapses under him. One left. The leader.

"I've enjoyed your games, Vigilante." He says. I'm truly enjoying his accent. "But now I have become irritated. You won't be leaving here alive."

I try my disappearing act again, to finish him off. But as soon as I reappear, I'm caught around the throat. I'm staring directly in his eyes. He throws down his wand and pulls a knife out of his pocket. I have to think fast.

With the strength left in me, I used my legs to push into him. I fly into the wall, hitting my head. Hard I might add, but I'm out of his grips. I have no time to recollect as he charges towards me like a wild hippogriff. I disappear, he laughs, thinking I will allow myself to be captured again.

Not this time.

I reappear in midair above him, falling onto his back. I wrap my arms around his neck, and tighten them. He tries to reach for me, but I can feel him growing weaker. Another few seconds and he falls to his knees, gasping for air. I let go, jumping off his back. He tries to power back up, but I cut him short, punching him to the ground.

 _"Seamus."_

 _"She's five minutes from the hotel."_

I run to the exit door, putting myself back inside the tunnel. I don't bother using the other exit door, I disappear on the spot, re-emerging in my hotel room. It's daylight now, 8 o clock to be exact. I take off my suit quickly, hiding it back in my suitcase. I throw on some shorts and a tee shirt while I put my story together.

 _"She's here."_ Seamus say quickly.

 _"Patch me in."_ I want to hear everything.

* * *

 _From Seamus's Room._

"He's here." Hermione said breathlessly.

Seamus plays dumb. "Who? Nott?"

"No. The Vigilante."

"Like _here_ here. Or like here?"

"He's in Romania. Look, last night I lied. I wasn't in my room, I snuck out and went searching for leads on Harlem Nott. I turned down an alley and ran into him, and then we got caught."

"And taken where?"

"Somewhere underground. It was a magic dead zone, I couldn't apparate. They knew who I was and they knew he was the Vigilante. It had to be Nott's people, the place was too structured and heavily guarded. This part of Romania is basically a ghost town."

Seamus pries on. "So how did you escape?"

"The Vigilante. Somehow he got free and there was something with the lights...Long story short, he saved me. But I'm not sure he made it out alive."

"Don't write him off just yet, Hermione." My partner laughs. "We all know the Vigilante isn't that easy to kill. So have you told Potter?"

"Merlin no." Granger says quickly. "I'm not telling Harry anything until we know that Nott is here for sure. Where's Malfoy?"

"I think he's in his room."

"I need to talk to him."

Seamus pauses for a moment. "Well, uhhh, okay. Let's go." _"You're on, mate."_

I toss my suitcase back into my closet, preparing for my two guests. I unmake the bed, trying to give it some look as if I slept in it last night. I try to think of something else I can do, but Seamus knocks on my door.

I take a deep breath, though I'm mentally and physically tired from my recent kidnapping. When I open my door, Hermione barges in and Seamus follows her.

"What's going on?" I ask her, as if I'm oblivious to the conversation she and Seamus just had.

"Our beloved Hermione here got kidnapped last night." Seamus says. "She thinks it was Nott's men."

I put on a frown. "And how'd you get away?"

"The Vigilante saved me." Answers Hermione.

"The Vigilante's here? In Romania?" I ask.

Seamus speaks next. "Same thing I said."

"Yes, we were kidnapped together." Granger responds. "But that isn't what's bothering me." And at those words, I feel extremely uneasy.

"A few days ago, the Vigilante was in London. Now he's in Romania—the same day we arrived."

"Maybe he's on vacation?" Seamus shrugs.

The witch rolls her eyes. _"Or._ Somebody in the Ministry has been feeding him intel. Only me, you, Draco, and Harry knew about this mission, Seamus."

"I don't like where this is going."

"So," Granger asks, her arms crosses. "Which one of you are working with the Vigilante?"

 **Author's Note: They've fooled Harry Potter, but can they fool Hermione Granger? More to come!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	7. Conflict of Self

Chapter 7: Conflict of Self

What draws the line between right and wrong? Who decides who are the devils and who are the angels? And how do we decide if we are simply in between? When is the moment we decide who we are? Or who we shall become?

* * *

 _Then._

"Malfoy." I hear a voice say. I heard it faintly at first, but then it grew louder and louder. "Malfoy!"

My eyes snap open, meeting the green ones of Harry Potter. My first instinct is to hide the old Azkaban map under my leg. I still didn't know what I wanted to do with it yet, but I knew I didn't want it falling into Potter's hands.

"Ever heard of knocking, Potter?" I ask groggily. I can feel a headache coming along, and my arms ached from my temper tantrum earlier.

Potter didn't react the way I thought he would've. I was expecting a smart remark, like how we were at Hogwarts. But he just…smiled? Lifting up my empty bottle of Firewhiskey and…

"Every heard of therapy?" He asked back.

"It's…it wasn't about Astoria." I said, wiping my face. My eyes come back into focus and I come face-to-face with the mess I made the night before. "My uhhhh…my father came to visit last night. He wasn't too happy about Nott's sentence."

"So you destroyed his study?" Potter asked, examining the wreckage.

I shrugged. "An alternative to suicide, I guess." Bad joke, I know.

Potter doesn't react much to it. "I just came by to check on you, seeing how you were doing after…your fall."

"Is that what they're calling it? My fall? The lady at the tailor shop said the same thing."

"Kingsley thinks it's more appropriate to say instead of attempted suicide." Harry says. He moves some of the wreckage over and sits by me. I shuffle a bit, hoping that the Azkaban map is tucked safely under my leg still.

"Do they know?" Potter asks. He isn't staring at me, his eyes focused on one of my father's pictures that I slashed my knife through. I stare at it too. When I was a boy, it was my favorite portrait in his study. My father in his prime—a noble and respected man. Or so I thought.

"About…you know?"

My throat goes dry. "I think my mother has an idea—a woman's intuition and all. I'm not really sure about my father. The only thing he cares about is the fact that I haven't murdered Nott."

Potter still doesn't react to my comments. It's as if he understands why I am saying all of this—as if he has said the same things before. Like he's done everything I've done up to this point.

We continue staring at my father's slashed portrait. And I think about the moment I realized my father wasn't that noble and respected man I thought him to be. It was long before Lord Voldemort took over the Manor. The thought of it made me want to take another sip of Firewhiskey, but I remembered the bottle was empty.

"I don't know what I would have done in your situation, Malfoy." Potter says. "I've seen so many people die…friends…family."

"How do you deal with it?" I ask. It was weird…asking Potter for advice, but I know he would have the best yet. He's lost so much—even before he could realize what death was. His parents, his godfathers, Dumbledore…

"At first, I thought being the person they wanted me to be would stop the pain. That if I did everything perfectly, it would make it all better…but it doesn't. People are still being murdered, kidnapped, and cursed. Children are still going missing. Cults are rising every night."

I think of Astoria. "You're doing your best."

Potter snorted. "I'm doing _their_ best. And their best isn't enough. Sometimes Malfoy…the angels aren't angels. And the devils aren't devils. Sometimes we attach ourselves so closely to an ideal…that we misunderstand everything else."

He puts back on his glasses, now being able to clearly see the slashed portrait of my father. Seeing it for what it really was.

"So how do I deal with it? I stopped being their person I thought they wanted me to be, and started being the person everyone else needed me to be. And that requires becoming something else."

"Even if it means going against everything you once believed."

* * *

 _Now._

Seamus and I exchange a look, trying to figure out our next move. Hermione Granger had caught us red handed.

"Well?" She said, putting her hands on her hips. "Is someone going to answer me?"

Seamus tried first. "Are you sure it isn't Potter?"

The witch scoffed. "I think I would know if Harry Potter was sharing notes with the Vigilante. He isn't very good with keeping secrets."

 _She's right._ I say to myself. Harry was never good at hiding things. I should know—at Hogwarts I knew every plan and scheme Potter drew up in his head. Even now, all feelings aside, I still know what Potter is up to.

"I honestly feel like it's a coincidence." Seamus continued to press on, but I knew there was only one way to get out of this one. I swiftly move for my wand, my heart beginning to pound nervously. I didn't understand why I had grown so nervous—I had erased many memories in the past. But it was her…

"You're stalling, Seamus, and frankly it's pathetic." Hermione snapped back. "Do you all have any idea of the extent of the laws you've just broken?"

Seamus scoffed. "We didn't break any laws, Granger!"

"Releasing information to a _wanted criminal_ is a felony, Seamus! Despite what the Vigilante has done, he's a criminal to the Ministry!"

My palms begin to sweat and I have to ask myself, "Is this what I want to do?" Would I even be fast enough to do it? Why did I even have to do it? What harm was there in letting Hermione Granger know that I was the Vigilante?

 _Well for starters._ A voice began in my head, but I already knew what was to follow. I wasn't entirely sure I could trust Hermione with my identity. She could go tell Potter—blasting my name all over the Daily Prophet. She could stun me and I would wake up locked away in Azkaban.

Or worse. She would keep my secret, which would put her in danger. If any of my enemies knew how strongly I cared for Granger, they would go after her.

"Hermione…" My partner argues. "He just saved your life! And now you want to turn him in?!"

She ignores him. "If I don't get an answer in the next five seconds, I'm calling this in to Harry. And you all can explain to him how the Vigilante ended up in Romania.

I quickly swallow my fears and grip my wand once more. I have to do it—no one could know I was the Vigilante. Especially not now. But before I could cast my spell…

"Fine!" Seamus says, and I notice his fists are shaking. Was he about to do it? Was he about to tell Granger who I was? Who he was?

 _Seamus, what are you doing?_

"I told the Vigilante that we would be in Romania." He lied. "But he cornered me the night before we left and pulled the information out of my head. Before I could realize what was going on...he was gone. I..I didn't know what he took until you came in saying he was here."

My mouth wants to drop open, but I don't allow it to. It was a childish reaction, but I couldn't believe he had done it. That Seamus Finnegan convicted the Vigilante. Of course I had done it plenty of times, but Seamus was a die-hard Vigilante fan. He hated when I did it and always vouched for me when the Vigilante was brought up in conversation. I could tell that it was tearing him up inside.

I also noticed the fire dying inside of Granger. "Seamus…" She said softly, seeing how torn up he was. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"He saved my life." Seamus answered immediately. "I figured whatever he took…" He then looked at me, and I try to portray a look of confusion such as Hermione. "…he needed it to save someone else's."

I look back at Hermione, and I wonder if she's thinking about how the Vigilante saved her. There is a long silence between the three of us, and a part of me is anxious about what Granger would do with this information. Seamus could be fired for what he did—and there was nothing the Vigilante—or Draco Malfoy—could do about it.

"So what now?" I ask her. "Are you going to report him?"

She looks at me, and my heart skips a beat. It was the same way she looked at me when we were in the tunnel. As if the decision she was about to make stood against everything she once knew.

"No." She said simply, and she walked past me and Seamus, leaving the room.

I waited for Seamus to say some silly remark, but it doesn't come. His fists are still shaking and he looks as if he wants to throw up (or punch something.) Before I could say anything, he leaves my room as well.

I should have felt relieved. That Hermione Granger didn't find out my identity. That once again Seamus proved to be a loyal member of the team. That we found what could be Harlem Nott's hideout. But I didn't. We were one day into our recon mission, and the madness was already taking over.

* * *

 _8:00 pm._

I find Seamus in his room, downing something a bit stronger than Firewhiskey. I decided to floo to his room, knowing that if I knocked he wouldn't answer. He's looking through the files that Potter gave us. I notice he also has his "after-work activities" notebook out, no doubt trying to compare what happened the night before to the files.

"You didn't have to do that for me, Seamus." I said, breaking the silence. "I was going to erase her memory."

"Why?"

I open my mouth to explain what took me so long to do it—but I'm caught off guard by his question. Certainly, Seamus knew _why_ I wanted to erase her memory.

"Pardon?"

My partner whipped around in his chair, looking at me with a face of seriousness. And from that look, I concluded that Seamus knew why I wanted to erase her memory—but he wanted to know why I wanted to erase _Hermione Granger's_ memory of the Vigilante.

"Draco, she's the first woman you've fancied since Astoria. And I know it's hard trying to balance what you feel for her with what we do every night. But you saved her life last night, mate."

I furrow my brow. "Are you saying I should've told her I was the Vigilante?"

"Oh no." Seamus sighed. "It's just—ever since we started doing this, everyone has always labeled you as one thing. A criminal. No matter how many people you save. No matter how many Death Eaters and petty thugs you stop. They always call you the same thing."

"But that doesn't matter to me, Seamus."

"It won't matter—until you hear it from her."

He's made a good point. I've been called a criminal and a thug many times. At home by my parents. At work from my coworkers. From random people in the street. But it never bothered me, because I knew who I was. But hearing the word "criminal" come out of Granger's mouth, even after I had saved her…it stung me. Maybe even cut me deeper than I was feeling right now.

"That's why I always defend you." Seamus continued. "So people can wake up and realize that you aren't a criminal. That we're doing the right thing. That everything isn't just right and wrong…devils and angels. "

At this moment, I'm speechless. I'd always wanted to make a greater impact on the community as the Vigilante, and for a while I stopped working towards it. I did what I needed to do, despite the labels in the paper or what others thought about me. But I never stopped to realize how those criticisms affected those who supported me. I never thought about how their faith in me could influence someone else to believe in what we were doing.

Not until Seamus convinced Hermione Granger to go against everything she ever stood for.

There was a knock on the door, and I take it upon myself to open it. I almost freeze on the spot when I see who's there. My heart skips another beat as if this is my first time seeing her, but I quickly blink myself out of my trance.

"Granger." I say. "Did you need something?"

She blushes red, biting her lip. "I—I wanted to apologize to Seamus. About earlier."

I look behind me, looking to Seamus to decide whether to let the witch in or not. My partner nods 'yes' and I open the door wider, allowing Hermione to walk inside. She walks straight in, coming face to face with Seamus.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, Seamus." She says quickly, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I know how passionate you are about the Vigilante, and—"

"Save it, Granger." Seamus interrupted, his usually smile on his face. "All is forgiven."

She smiles back. "I also wanted to invite you two to drinks, as a peace offering." She blushed again. "If you wanted to go."

Seamus and I share a look. We were never the ones to turn down drinks.

"You two go on." Seamus says surprisingly. "I'm going to dig into the files a bit more. See if I can find a connection with your kidnapping and Harlem Nott."

I frown. "You sure?"

He holds up his bottle. "I got the whole bar right here, mate. I'll be fine."

I catch on to what he's doing. Leaving Hermione and I alone. And though I appreciate the noble gesture, a part of me wants to retreat to my room. My heart beats faster as Granger and I leave Seamus's room and head downstairs to the bar. With each step, I'm praying to Merlin that I don't screw this up.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	8. Grey Areas

Chapter 8: Grey Areas

So after the second chance. After you have decided who you're meant to be. You must decide the purpose of this person you're meant to be. And that's the part that makes everyone want to turn back.

* * *

 _Four years ago._

I stand in the Malfoy Dungeons. A place I refused to visit for the past couple years. Could you blame me? The number of classmates, friends, teachers, and strangers that I've seen dragged down there. Dragged screaming- some never to return. And the ones that did….they might as well have stayed down there.

The first thing I did was clear all the dungeons. I cleaned it fully. And though it's new look made the old cellar look unrecognizable, every detail of what it used to be was etched into my mind. But like Elysium had given me a new purpose, I decided to give the dungeons a new purpose as well.

"This is where you've decided to operate from?" I hear a familiar voice ask. My late Godfather, Severus Snape.

I give a weird smile, liking the disapproval in his voice. "It doesn't look that bad. Plenty of room for my activities."

"And plenty of room for someone to stumble down here and discover your activities." He retorts.

"Which is why I put a disillusion charm on the door. To the outside, the door to the dungeons no longer exists."

The ghost of my godfather huffs. I know he's wishing to find another flaw in my base of operations, but he won't. It took me days to figure it all out, playing devil's advocate with myself everytime a new idea popped into my head.

Something sparked in me when Potter came to visit me the other night. That I didn't have to be the Draco Malfoy others wanted me to be. That my father wanted me to be. That my Godfather wanted me to be- or the rest of my "advisors" in Elysium. I had to be what everyone needed me to be.

And now it was time to figure out why.

"You're questioning your purpose again." I hear my godfather say. "It's like mood swings with you."

I frown. "Is that bad?" I ask, feeling like a child at Hogwarts again- trying to sort my feelings.

"You do remember rescuing that young woman from that Death Eater the other day? Do your remember how she looked at you when you apprehended him?"

"She looked at me as if-"

"As if you were bloody Harry Potter." Snape interrupted me, not waiting for me to spew my pathetic answer. "A symbol. A protector. To remind them that there is someone looking out for the people in this community."

I turn to him, and it's awfully scary to look at him. He looks exactly as he did the last time I saw him- before Voldemort killed him those years ago. It scares me that one day I will be older than him, and look older than him.

"But...why me?" I ask. Why me?

Our eyes meet, and I'm rooted to the spot. I feel like I've asked another childish question, but I honestly wanted to know. What possessed the four greatest wizards in the world to pick me, Draco Malfoy, to be the guardian of the Wizarding Community? Little did I know, that my answer was coming.

"Look into our past, Draco." Snape says. "Did any of us start as famously as Harry Potter?"

Trying to skip the history lesson in my head. "No, but-"

"Despite our past, we became the greatest wizards of our time. Each of us asking, why us? But I look at you Draco. I look at the people we have inspired- for the good and the bad, and I realized why. And that is a purpose who have to learn for yourself."

At his last words, he disappears in thin air. I stand there for a moment, pondering Snape's words. I think back to the lady in the alley. When Snape first asked me the question, I was convinced that the lady looked afraid or confused- that she thought I was going to hurt her next. But I then realized that it wasn't confusion at all.

It was hope.

* * *

 _Now._

"Two brandys please." Granger says.

I raise my brow. "Taking a page out of Seamus's book I see."

She laughs, and I feel my stomach turn in knots. I had just saved her life and fought off at least five brutes the night before- yet sitting beside her in this normal hotel bar made me queasy with fear.

The bartender hands us our drinks. I'm not sure what to say, and from the way Granger is running her finger across her glass, she doesn't either. I clear my throat, once again shaking the nerves away.

"Were you really going to turn Seamus in?" Not the best conversation starter, but I had no other ideas where to start.

Granger took a sip of her drink. "At that moment...I think I wanted to. But...last night. Had the Vigilante not known that we would be here…" She chuckled. "We wouldn't be having these drinks right now."

I give a small smile. "So, should we be thanking the Vigilante?"

"For what? Illegally prying into Seamus's mind? Or rescuing me?"

"Why do you do that?" I laugh, taking a sip of my own drink.

She laughs as well. "It's just...the Vigilante is such a gray area. He did save my life, which I'm thankful for. But at the same time he forcefully extracted information from a Ministry officer."

I try not to get defensive, but I can feel a gruffness in my voice. "Well, it isn't like he could've walked in the Ministry and asked for it."

"But the question is: Why does he need it? He knows why _we_ need it, but we don't know his agenda. What is his purpose?"

My mind races back to the conversation me and Snape had in the Malfoy dungeons four years ago, when I was questioning the Vigilante's purpose as well.

"He followed me to that alley for a reason," She went on. "And it wasn't to save me. I just wish I knew- I wish we knew, why he does what he does."

She laughs to herself, pressing her lips against her glass. I look at her, secretly wanting to hear her laugh again.

"What?" I ask.

"It's silly," She starts. "But...all my life I've been able to figure anyone and everything that comes my way. At Hogwarts, the war, and now the Ministry. And here comes this Vigilante, who seems to be always ten steps ahead of me-" She looks at me, and I try not to melt into her brown eyes.

"He's the one person I can't figure out."

Now I understood why she was so aggressive with Seamus. Though she didn't outrightly say it, I now knew her deepest desire. To find out who the Vigilante was. But not him telling her who he was, or revealing his identity to her one random night. But for her to tie the clues and the evidence together- to find that the man sitting beside her was him.

I take another sip of my drink, this one longer than before. I honestly wish I could tell her why the Vigilante does what he does. I wish I could tell her truth. Not because it makes me uneasy that the smartest witch in the world can't figure out who the Vigilante is.

But because...it's her.

"So, what would you do if you figured him out?" I ask, my own interest peaking. "The Vigilante."

Granger shrugged. "Ask him why, I guess. Why does he feel the need to do what he does? To go against the law? To harass Ministry officials? Only to put his life before everyone else."

I frown. "So you would be less interested in _who_ he is?"

"Who he is doesn't matter." Granger said bluntly, as if that part of the Vigilante wasn't interesting enough to her. "If it did, he wouldn't be running around in the middle of the night with a mask on."

"So, you're saying he's more than just a man?"

She turns in her seat to look at me, and in that moment I'm frozen. She bites her lip, looking at me as if she doesn't know how to say her next words.

"When the Vigilante was fighting off our kidnappers, I didn't see him as just this guy fighting the bad guys. I saw an ideal. I saw...hope. It was like…" She blushed. "Seeing Dumbledore walk in a room on really bad day at Hogwarts."

She then frowned, turning back to her glass. "But even Dumbledore had secrets. Outside agendas. Just like the Vigilante...a grey area."

* * *

 _Later that night._

I return to the roof of the hotel, my eyes glued to the streets for anything suspicious. But though my eyes seemed focused on the street, my mind was focused somewhere else. The gears in my head were turning mercilessly from the conversation Granger and I had at the pub. It was...refreshing...to challenge her thoughts on the Vigilante. To know what she really thought about him.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mister Malfoy?"

I recognized his voice immediately, and felt that spring of hope Granger described in the bar. But then I remembered her next words, and that hope faltered. It twisted. How could someone so great, be so grey?

"I'm helping people right?" I ask, sounding like a small child. But I knew he wouldn't turn my question away. "What I'm doing...it's a good thing?"

"Four years." Dumbledore chuckled. "And you still have to ask that question?"

He walks up beside me, a ghost in the night. He's wearing his usual light-blue robes and moon-rimmed glasses. If anyone could see us standing side-by-side- his bright robes and my black suit- they would think we were opposites. But we were exactly the same.

"You heard what she said." I respond. "The Vigilante is a grey area. I saved her life, but what about what else I've done? Lying to her and Potter? Breaking into Gringotts?"

"You think it would be easier to tell them the truth? To expose yourself as the Vigilante?"

I don't answer, because I know the answer. Of course it would be simple, telling them I was the Vigilante. But then what? Would they trust me? Would they turn me in? What would happen to Seamus? What would happen to them...if they chose to keep my secret?

"Sometimes Draco, we must do what is right...rather than what is easy. And right now, keeping Miss Granger in the dark is the right thing to do."

He turns to look at me. "I know how you feel about her, and I don't want to see you hurt again."

My throat goes dry. I know what he's referring to. Astoria. It took me four years to finally open up and feel for someone again. And I couldn't let that happen again. The thought of it made me sick, and the thought of it happening again- this time Granger being the victim- it made me feel even worse.

We stand in silence, my eyes actually watching the streets this time to keep my mind from wandering to that night. I can still feel that guttural scream that came from my body when I saw her there. Sitting lifelessly in chair. I could still hear the chains rattling furiously as I tried to fight my way out of them, just so I could get to her. I couldn't let that happen again.

"So, what did we learn from our altercation last night?" Dumbledore asks, changing the subject.

"Five bogeys," I saw immediately, finding relief in talking about something else. "All Russian...could've been working with Nott. They said the 'boss' was coming, but I didn't stick around to see who that was. Too busy saving Granger."

"Hm."

His 'hm' catches my attention, which tells me that he knows something. Or in Dumbledore's case, he's assumed something that will likely be true as the days go by.

"Spit it out, Albus." I say, turning back to the street.

"Their boss was coming," The old wizard started. "Yet they stopped to kidnap you and Miss Granger. What would Harlem Nott want with Hermione Granger _and_ the Vigilante?"

I frown. "Are you saying Granger wasn't supposed to be kidnapped?"

"No, Mister Malfoy. I think _you_ weren't supposed to be kidnapped."

A light bulb flashes in my head. My mind races back to the moment when Hermione and I were bagged. I was following her, but could it be possible that someone else was following her, too? Someone who was close enough to get us both.

"Hermione Granger is the top Magical Creature Specialist in the department." Dumbledore continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone knew she was looking into Harlem's files."

I growled. "I also wouldn't be surprised if someone was spreading that knowledge to Harlem himself."

"I have more assumptions, but I think some recon is in order. Don't you think, Draco?"

But I can barely hear his last words. I had already dived off the hotel roof, heading to the exact location from last night. Someone else knew that we were here, not just the Vigilante. And if the situation was exactly what I thought it was...Hermione was in trouble. Serious trouble.

" _Seamus."_ I turn on my telepathic link.

" _I heard everything, mate. What do you need me to do?"_

" _Keep watch on Granger, make sure no one enters the hotel."_

" _Wouldn't it be easier if you watched Hermione?"_

I floo to the tunnel that I used to escape the other night. I hover my hand across the door, no magical current. They must have added extra security.

" _Sometimes you gotta do what's right, rather than what's easy, Seamus."_

I open the door and step inside the tunnel, feeling my wand feel as powerless as a small stick. Whatever was waiting for me on the other side of the door, I would have to face with brains and brawn. I had half the mind to turn back.

" _That's such a Dumbledore thing to say._ " Seamus says, as the door closes and surprisingly locks.

It's just me and the music now.


End file.
